


Glass Castle

by TheBlackRoom



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angry Daryl, Angst, Bottom Daryl, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt Daryl, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Daryl, Possessive Rick, Protective Daryl, Rickyl, Smut, Top Rick, Top Shane, sharyl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:03:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6677035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackRoom/pseuds/TheBlackRoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rick Grime's loses his career as a powerful NYC attorney his misguided anger and resentment turns on his adoring husband Daryl who is desperate to feel loved and seen again. Just when all seems to have eroded Daryl encounters Shane Walsh, another seductive and prominent attorney who is willing to give Rick his career back in exchange for Daryl's infidelity. (A story of love, power, wealth, and murder.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Encounter.

**Author's Note:**

> OMFG! I accidentally deleted this and had to post all over again! :( Lost all my bookmarks and kudos. Fortunately I contained my rage before smashing my MacBook. 
> 
> Anyway, round two!

Glass Castle 

~~**~~

 

Misery loves company. Daryl had always heard this innocuous expression without giving it much thought. However, the past sixteen months have been profound blows to the gut as his whole life became one giant, miserable, and turbulent series of events. 

Rick lost his fifteen year career as an affluent corporate attorney due to several bad business deals with the firms major clients like Koch Brothers and IHS. It all happened in an instant. He was the golden boy of New York Cities largest law firm and then he was nothing. “Thanks for your time, but you’ve lost your edge.” And just like that he was cast aside like trash. 

Unfortunate for Daryl, all those years he was an artist, able to be freelance and not fear how much or how little money he made. Rick was rich, respected, Daryl only had to be on his dapper arm to reap the glamorous results of being Rick Grime’s husband. And Rick loved it, an unspoken dynamic of their marriage Daryl later found out once the glamour was over is that his husband enjoyed being the bread winner. The one in control of the money. He loved to dote on his sweet boy, his, baby doll, silly little minx. All the cutesy pet names he gave Daryl as an ersatz adoration when really he was insinuating the younger man’s simplicity, his lack of understanding about the world on his own. Rick regularly reminded Daryl of how lucky he is to have a man like him, to love and take care of him while he remained a whimsical artist who required the support of someone who actually knew how to maneuver the world. 

This reality broke Daryl’s heart. Rick was not a bad man, but he was who he was for his own reasons and Daryl was just now privy to it. He was just a silly little boy and Rick was his god. 

Daryl worked at an art gallery making little money, but he loved it, and until recently never thought he would wish for more. Of course, he also became aware that he was conditioned to being a spoiled brat. Rick also enjoyed that, that is until money suddenly became an issue. For the past seventeen years they were a power couple, all on Rick’s power, of course, but everyone knew Daryl too. There wasn’t a gala in the city they were’t on the top of the guest list, and now that changed too.

Daryl sat alone in the bar of the Ritz-Carlton Manhattan waiting for Rick to wrap up a potential business deal. Rick had decided to wing it and try to go out on his own, which ignited more stressful panic and uncertainty, usually taken out on Daryl as misguided frustration. But it hurt the same no less, being Rick’s emotional punching bag. Most day’s he didn’t even want to come home from working at the gallery with Maggie and Tara, knowing that Rick would be in the same spiteful and crazed mood he was in when Daryl left that morning. He missed wanting to go home to his husband. 

 

“Another?” The bartender asked warmly. He was a sexy black man with large muscles and kind eyes. 

“Please.” Daryl murmured, unintentionally sounding rude to his own ears. But unfazed the bartender slid over another double scotch, neat with a splash of soda water. Daryl suddenly cringed as he was uncertain whether or not they could even afford scotch anymore. They now lived on Rick’s severance package from the firm and his retirement. 

And like a million times since Rick’s career ended Daryl felt his Rolex heavy on his arm and his Prada shoes felt uncomfortable. It was as if all these lavish spoils suddenly felt like collateral from his once wealthy husband, that they kept him indebted to the only man or world he’d known his entire adult life. Rick Grime’s, is all he knew, picked from his life of crushing poverty and abuse in the country side of Georgia. Everything beautiful and happy he ever experienced was Rick’s to claim. Once a blessing turned curse he wouldn’t wish on anyone. 

Daryl sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose as the bartender took another order from a man the appeared beside him.

“I’ll have whatever this beauty here is having.” Daryl heard the familiar souther drawl that made his ears hone in on something other than his internal misery. He heard the bartender chuckle as he placed a scotch on the marble bar top for the other man.

“Fortunate for the two of you this building if filled with rooms.” The bartender winked before going off to another customer. It was then Daryl realized what the other man had said and he blushed a deep red. He glanced over and saw a very handsome man with dark hair just long enough to run your fingers through, he had large ebony eyes and olive skin. His nose was fairly large and appeared to have been broken at some point, but he was devilishly handsome, and he knew it. His charcoal suite was tailored flawlessly to his tight muscular physique and he stood with his whole body facing Daryl as though he had never been rejected in his entire life. 

“You alone, beautiful?” He asked in his gruff accent before he brought the crystal glass to his full lips and sipped the amber liquid onto his tongue. Daryl’s brain went reeling, this gorgeous man was looking at him like he was the most majestic creature to walk the earth. Rick never looked at him like that anymore. 

“Uh-I-yes.” He stammered. “I mean no, I’m waiting. But I am alone…now…” He tripped over his thoughts stupidly. An amused smirk played the man’s lips and his eyes sparkled like he was being handed the Hope Diamond. 

“My husband is on business, just down the hall.” He tried to sound uninterested and committed to Rick. The way he always had been. 

“He must be a fool to leave you unattended.” The man mused.

“I beg your pardon?” Daryl scoffed suddenly feeling defensive. The man put his hand up in retreat.

“I’m just sayin’, he must not know what he has if he think’s he can just leave you vulnerable to the wolves.” He explained without revoking his criticism. 

“I can handle my damn self.” Daryl told him curtly. The man chuckled arrogantly. 

“Well, I’ll respect your boundaries.” He nodded. 

“Like hell you will.” Daryl scoffed but his smitten tone betrayed him. The man laughed. 

“No, not a chance, like I said, he’s a fool.” He sipped his scotch and Daryl was suddenly overwhelmed by the man’s compliments and intrigue that he wished Rick could hear this, that Rick would be reminded that Daryl is still visible and beautiful even if he no longer sees it. 

“I’m Shane Walsh, by the way.” The man stuck out a large hand and Daryl took it a little too eagerly, his smaller more slender hand nearly disappearing into Shane’s strong grip. He didn’t let go fast enough to even mock a casual encounter. 

“S’what do you do?” Daryl attempted at conversation. Shane grinned. 

“I’m a lawyer, to put if simply.” He boasted. Daryl’s mouth fell open.

“Walsh…you’re Shane Walsh of Walsh & Harrison!” He nearly yelled in shock. 

“You know?” Shane asked with a proud and smitten grin. 

“Well yeah, my husband is….” He trailed off. Rick was down the hall right now speaking to Andrea Harrison about some project or another. They were Rick’s original firms greatest competitor. 

Shane’s expression suddenly became curious and focused. 

“My husband is Rick Grimes.” Daryl informed sounding a bit deflated. Shane’s brows shot up and an amused smirk played his expression. 

“Well, well, you are every bit as god damn beautiful as they said you’d be.” He spoke directly into Daryl’s eyes. “I’m starting to wonder how we’ve never met before now.” He added mirthfully. 

“Couldn’t say.” 

“Well, one thing’s for sure.” Shane cleared his throat and finished off his scotch. “Your husband is in a bit of a jam. He could really use the break of getting my firm on his side.” He quirked his lips in mock concentration. “He’s earned a reputation lately of being quite a liability.” He added callously. Daryl felt his face get hot. 

“He’s an extraordinary lawyer.” Daryl defended his husband angrily. 

“No doubt!” Shane agreed. “But he’s also made some extraordinary fuck ups.”

“A good business man takes chances.” Daryl shot back. 

“Apparently so, he left you here, didn’t he?” He smirked playfully. 

“We’re done here, I have to go.” Daryl hopped off his stool and slapped $50 on the bar top. Suddenly Daryl felt Shane’s large hand grip his fore arm.

“Hey, lets just…talk.” His arrogance digressed. 

“Nothin’ ta talk about.” Daryl quipped. 

“You sure about that?” Shane scrutinized. Daryl thought about it for a moment and relaxed his stance. What if he could be the one to pull this off for Rick? For both of them…

“What should we talk about?” He asked quietly. Shane smiled again. 

“About how I’m in a position to give you your life back.” His words rolled out like the primal growl of a stalking lion as his hand slid up Daryl’s arm. 

“Hh-how would you do that?” Daryl stammered as he felt his blood travel to his groin and his chest constrict with anxiety. At this point he wasn’t sure if this was for Rick or for himself…or both. 

“I will tell you no lies Daryl, I want you.” Shane confessed like a man who is not accustomed to hearing no as an answer, and Daryl had no desire to deny him.


	2. As You Wish.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl is discovering his own power and ability to manipulate where Rick has fallen short. He decides to indulge Shane's proposition and remember's Rick's personal mantra, "Greatness is only achieved through ruthlessness."

“Well, people wanna lot of things.” Daryl surprised himself with how cold he sounded as he gently pulled away from Shane’s grip. He tried to walk calmly out into the lobby without looking back the man with his bruised ego. 

Rick was coming through the lobby as Daryl stepped out of the bar, Rick looked disheveled as he placed a cigarette between his lips ready to light the moment he got outside, but his briefcase popped open and paper flew everywhere, much like his frayed nerves. He looks so pathetic, Daryl thought angrily as he kneeled down beside his husband to help gather the contents. 

“I can’t get a fucking break!” He whispered frantically. 

“Pull it together, you can’t lose it here.” Daryl urged. 

“I need that file!” He snapped at Daryl.

“I’m trying.” He tried not to sound angry as they gathered the papers and pens. 

“Here you go.” The file appeared between them.

“Thank you!” Rick jumped up to face Shane, who’s cool collectiveness made Rick look ridiculous in contrast. Daryl never imagined a day he would feel embarrassed by Rick, but he found himself despising his husbands presence more by the day. 

“Shane Walsh.” Rick observed dumbly. Daryl cringed. Not that long ago Rick would have stood in front of a man like Shane, stared him in the eye and said, “I’m Rick Grimes, but you already know that.” But now it was like he cowered in Shane’s wake. 

“Indeed I am.” Shane smiled warmly. “Got another one of those?” He pointed to the Marlboro between Rick’s fingers.

“Ah, yeah, of course, care to join me outside?” Rick tried to sound less excited.

“That was the idea.” He patted Rick on the back and flashed a wink at Daryl, who was now feeling a little tight in the throat. Daryl very much doubted that Shane did not have his own cigarette’s, or whether or not he even smoked. But Daryl knew from years of watching Rick that when you’re an intimidating figure that a tiny thing like bumming a smoke off of someone can give them a sense of importance and common ground. Smoke what they smoke and drink what they drink, even if you don’t like it. 

“So, Rick.” Shane started as they pushed through the large copper doors out into the noisy energy of the city and lit his cigarette. It was getting cool outside as the fluorescent orange sun started to set, the radiant glow bouncing off the buildings and windows. 

“What’s it been, two years since we last saw each other?” He stated more than asked as Rick lit his own and pondered for a second. 

“Yeah, about that…” He mused as he exhaled the smoke. 

“A lots changed.” Shane cocked an eyebrow and Rick looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock. 

“Yeah, seems I’ve fallen from grace.” He chuckled darkly. Daryl watched ready to jump in at any moment to defend him if Shane crossed the line. 

“People fuck up man.” Shane smirked knowingly as he took a long drag off his smoke. “A man’s only as good as his last show.” His statement made Rick tense. 

“What’s this about, Shane Walsh?” Rick bit.

“What did Andrea say?” Shane asked, ignoring the question. Rick shook his head trying not to look annoyed. 

“She was vague. But she seemed to like my ideas.” He offered shortly. “Where were you?” Shane took another long hit off his cigarette before snuffing it out beneath his handsome black oxfords that Daryl knew were well priced over a grand. 

“Well, I meant to be here, but got caught up at work, you’d already started by time I got here.” His large ebony eyes fell on Daryl. “But I had the great pleasure of meeting your better half.” He added. “He seems to think you’re an extraordinary lawyer.” 

Rick shifted and looked at his husband as though this surprised him. 

“He is.” Daryl confirmed. 

“And I agree, and I also believe in come backs.” He spoke to Rick who finished his cigarette and dropped it to the ground. “I’ll speak to Andrea, have her look over everything with me.” 

Rick nearly faltered, and Daryl felt suddenly ill. This was not what it appeared to be, he knew it. Shane would use this on him later, it was his entire angle, that's what men like he and Rick do. Nothing was free or without conditions. 

“That would be-Shane-I-thank you!” Rick stammered like he’d gotten his first real job. His face lit up like Time Square and Daryl wanted to be happy, he wanted to encourage him as Rick looked to him with the first beaming smile he had seen in sixteen months. But Daryl’s eyes were set suspiciously on Shane. 

“Don’t go humpin’ my leg yet, but I will do what I can.” Shane smirked. 

“I can’t tell you much I appreciate it, really.” Rick tried to sound more composed but he was starting to rock on his heels. 

“You got it man, but listen, I gotta jet.” He reached out and grasped Rick’s hand in a firm shake. “I’ll get back to you Friday.” He promised.

“It’ll be the longest three days of me life.” Rick half joked. 

 

_________________________________________________

 

Later that night Rick was still in a happy place as he cooked dinner for the two of them in their Tribeca condo, a modern loft style with exposed brick walls and giant windows overlooking the twinkling lights of Manhattan from the 43rd floor. Daryl sat on the counter drinking a fourth glass of wine trying to radiate good energy. Rick would of course expect him to be elated with joy about this, and to show his disease would upset him. Daryl watched as he smiled for no particular reason and hummed to the music, Ella Fitzgerald, Dream A Little Dream of Me, while he tested the pasta sauce he just made from scratch. 

“Baby…” His deep voice pulled Daryl from his thoughts.

“Yeah?” He smiled. 

“I love you.” He told his younger husband and Daryl suddenly felt like he was going to melt into a puddle. Rick’s ocean blue eyes were so sincere and his ear to ear grin beaming from the inside. 

Daryl would not take this away from him.

“I love you too.” And for the first time in so long that he almost didn’t recognize the feeling, he felt happy. Rick chuckled and turned to him, he was still wearing his white button down half open and his black suspenders. 

“What?” Daryl laughed at how intense his stare was. His smile dropped a little and he thought for a long moment.

“Is Shane queer?” He asked. Daryl froze.

“I-I’m not sure.” He lied. “You know more about him than I do.” He brought his glass to his lips. 

“Huh…” Rick pushed off the counter, his face more serious. “Do you find him handsome?” He asked and sauntered to where Daryl was perched, no threat to his tone. Daryl’s stomach knotted as though he’d been caught in something. 

“He’s not you.” He answered. Rick chuckled to himself. 

“He tried, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.” He obsersved placing his hands on the other man’s hips and standing directly in front of him. “He’s very handsome.” He told Daryl, his eyes hard to read. 

“He is, so what?” Daryl agreed flat and indifferent. A self conscious smile played the corner of Rick’s lips.

“So, you didn’t think about him fucking you?” He mumbled. 

“Rick.”

“I know.” He sighed heavily. “I’m just…I know I’ve not been easy, matter o’ fact I’ve been a downright dick.” He admitted and rested his forehead against Daryl’s who set his wine glass on the counter and brought his arms up around Rick’s neck. “You’ve been so patient to stand by me like this.”

“I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Rick.” And he meant it, because that he would credit himself, he is a god damn soldier. 

Rick chuckled and kissed his boy sweet and gentle, he breathed in through his nose and Daryl felt his lips trying to part his own, his arms tightened around Rick’s neck and he opened his mouth for the man’s tongue, Rick’s an amazing kisser. Daryl loves kissing him. He hummed into him as his toes curled and he felt Rick’s stubble scratch his lips and chin. Rick gently pulled away. 

“When was the last time I made love to you in the kitchen?” He whispered and slid his hands under the oversized NYU tee that was his, Daryl whimpered as Rick caressed his nipples.

“Too long.”

“I should do something about that.” He pecked Daryl’s lips. 

“The food will burn.”

“I’ll turn it off.” He whispered in to another kiss against Daryl’s smiling lips. 

“But I’m hungry.” He whined. Rick chuckled and lifted Daryl’s chin before licking the tip of his nose.

“My spoiled little brat.” Rick mused adoringly. 

“Its all your fault.” Daryl accused as he pulled his husband in for another kiss. 

“Ima bastard,” Rick sighed. They laughed as he pulled Daryl’s shirt over his head and dove in to suck on his neck.

“AH!” God, he fucking loves that. Daryl’s fingers fisted Rick’s wavy salt and pepper hair while he kissed down the boys shoulder, nipping and sucking, his tongue tracing the collar bone. 

“Where’re you goin’ mister?” Daryl feigned ignorance as Rick kissed down his belly, but he didn’t answer and Daryl felt himself so hard it almost hurt. This would be the first blow job he’d had in over a year. Rick’s fingers pulled at the band of Daryl’s red joggers and slid them down past his pulsing erection when he smiled up at the trembling younger man with those baby blues. Daryl watched mesmerized as Rick closed his eyes and he ran his nose along the length of his cock and inhaled him like his scent was the most intoxicating aroma in the world. 

Daryl’s head fell back as Rick took him into his warm mouth and made and audible, “mmmm”, sound as he sucked. It was mind blowing, his nerves crackling like fireworks as Rick gently pressed him back flat against the cool counter and gliding his wet lips up and down Daryl’s smooth cock. 

“My god, Rick,” He sighed as he rand his hand through his shaggy hair. Rick took the eight inches all the way down into his throat with ease and held it there for a long moment, letting his muscles restrict and massage the large intrusion. “Ah! Daddy, fuck yeah!” Daryl nearly sang as his chest began to heave and his face became damp with sweat. 

Rick pulled off with a sloppy pop! 

“Holy shit, wasn’t sure I could still do that!” He huffed proudly and grinned with his shiny wet lips and teary eyes. 

“No, don’t stop!” Daryl implored desperately.

“Hey!” Rick scolded playfully giving Daryl a little smack to the mouth. 

“I—!” He started to protest and got a warning finger to the nose.

“Just ‘cause I’m suckin’ your cock doesn’t mean your in change.” Rick cocked an eyebrow and a smile played the corner of his mouth. Daryl bit his lip mirthful and excited. 

“S’gonna be like that, eh pops?” He instigated and pressed his foot against Rick’s chest. Rick chuckled darkly.

“You wanna play baby boy?” His voice deep and predatory. 

“Hell yeah daddy,” 

“S’been a long time since I’ve given you a good dick down.” Rick licked his lips.

“I’ve been a good boy daddy, I deserve it.” Daryl insisted.

“I know you do baby.” Rick grabbed his ankles and pushed his knees up to his chest. “Hold ‘em up for me, like a good boy.” He leaned in for a hard kiss and spit in Daryl’s mouth before swiftly moving down to bite one of the younger man’s butt cheeks making him yelp and groan as Rick’s tongue found his tiny pink asshole. 

Daryl whined and whimpered while Rick pressed his hot wet tongue as far up his ass as he could reach, lapping and sucking and humming as he savored the taste of Daryl’s sweet boy pussy. 

“Ah, Rick, just like that, feels so good!” Daryl encouraged between heavy breaths as he kneaded at Rick’s thick hair. 

“God, I love it when you say my name.” He praised and grabbed Daryl’s hips, pulling him forward and sliding him off the counter to stand. 

“Yeah?” Daryl breathed as he stood chest to chest with his heated husband, “Rick.” 

“Suck my cock.” Rick growled as he placed Daryl’s hand on his erection, Daryl kneaded him through the trousers making him groan.

“I don’t think so.” Daryl denied him and stepped from between Rick and the counter. 

“Wh-What did you just say to me?” Rick was stunned like he’d seen something extra terrestrial. “Get over here, and suck my cock.” His voice threatening.

“Nuh-uh,” Daryl bit his lip mischievously and backed away. 

“Now.”

“Can’t make me.” Daryl tried him with his southern drawl. 

“Oh, you’re in trouble now.” Rick chuckled darkly before he launched and sent Daryl running and laughing through their condo. Rick jumped and cleared the gray linen sofa like a gazelle and tackled Daryl around the waist and threw him over his shoulder carrying him in to the bedroom. 

“You asked for it!” Rick tried to sound serious. 

“You gonna show me whose boss, daddy?” Daryl giggled while spanking Rick’s butt playfully. 

“Hope your ready for it!” Rick laughed and tossed his boy down on the puffy white comforter. 

“I’m so ready.” Daryl whined as he brought his knees up to his chest and started playing with pink hole, still wet with Rick’s saliva. “Come fuck me.” He begged as he slid a finger into himself and sighed like a horny angle. 

A vampire like grin spread across Rick’s face as he quickly undressed and grabbed lube from the drawer. 

“When I’m done with you this whole block is gonna know my name.” He promised and pressed a slick thumb into Daryl’s warm hole and making him purr. “Ooh, baby, your pussy’s so tight, I dunno if you can handle my dick.”

“Stop teasin’!” Daryl giggle and kick Rick’s shoulder playfully. 

“You sure?” Rick teased and pointed to his massive bobbing boner. “You want all this…in there?” He teased with mock concern. 

“Yes, fuck!” Daryl practically stomped his feet. 

“Alright, you asked for it.” He hopped on the bed throwing both of Daryl’s legs over one shoulder and diving down to kiss him rough and hard as he started to slide in. Daryl’s nails sunk into his back and he tried not to scream in pain. 

“C’mon baby, you got this.” Rick encouraged as he held Daryl’s wide eyes with his own. 

“Oh-My-fucking god!” Daryl sang and fisted his husbands hair like a life raft to his sanity, he had forgotten just how huge Rick is and how full he felt once he was completely penetrated. 

“That’s my good boy,” Rick praised with a pat on the ass. “This what my little brat was lookin’ for?”

“Ye—yes!” Daryl half laughed as he adjusted and Rick started to thrust into him slow and hard. 

“Good?” Rick smirked as he watch his boys expression soften and his eyes close.

“Feels so good, Rick, don’t stop.” He whimpered and grabbed the edge of the mattress above his head, his chest starting to glisten and heave. 

He was so full, the sensation of being complete when Rick is inside of him was alway’s so intoxicating as he felt his insides contracting and expanding with each thrust of his husbands ten inch cock.

“You’re bein’ such a good boy, baby!” Rick panted and slammed harder. 

“Aw, daddy, fuck me, shit!” 

“Whose my pretty little slut?”

“Me!” Daryl sang and bit into his own bicep as he grew delirious with ecstasy. “Jesus, Rick, that’s it, don’t stop, please!” 

Rick pounded him into the mattress and graded Daryl’s throat, lightly choking him and squeezing his jaw.

“What do ya want, baby boy?” He growled. 

“I need your cum in me.” Daryl bit back as he felt his own climax building. Rick laughed.

“Need?”

“Yes, Rick, I need to feel you cum inside of me.” He choked out as Rick’s hand squeezed his throat a little tighter and his eyes rolled back and his orgasm erupted like Saint Hellen’s spraying his chest and stomach with ropes of warm cum. 

“Ima fill you up, Daryl!” Rick grunted and nearly collapsed on top of the boy as he unloaded his seed deep inside of him. 

 

__________________________________________

 

Daryl stepped out of the shower into the steamy room, the tile floor cold to his feet. He stayed quiet and listened as the sound of Rick’s soft snores brought a smile to his face, it was rare for Rick to sleep anymore, especially normal hours. 

Daryl brushed his teeth and popped in his retainer before switching off the light and stepping out into the cool room wrapped in his husbands crisp white robe. The room was dark and quiet aside from the city light’s that filtered through the drapes, and the muffled sound from the city that never sleeps down below. 

Rick’s snoozing sounds had stopped and Daryl watched the man laying on his stomach with his arms folded over his head, his face peaceful like a man who suddenly had hope.

“I love you Daryl.” He mumbled and instantly went back to his soft snores. 

Suddenly Daryl’s throat tightened and he felt like he wanted to vomit. He remembered today when Shane invited Rick out for a cigarette and he gave Daryl that, Here’s lookin’ at you kid, wink. Like it was up to him to decide whether or not Rick got this job, a barter for his infidelity and in return he brings stability and purpose back to his relationship. But could he live with it?

He remembered Rick telling him a million times, “You cannot always be proud of what you’ve done in order to be proud of what you’ve accomplished.” Daryl wasn’t always certain what that meant, but he knew that men like Rick did thing’s people like him probably shouldn’t know about. “Power is only possessed by the ruthless acts of those who dare to pursue it.” And Rick was indeed very powerful, even now.

Daryl swallowed hard and allowed the realization that the table has turned, that he was in the position to make a ruthless decision for their greater good. And as he watched his husband sleep like a small child dreaming about flying amongst the moon and stars, he cleared his throat and straightened his back. 

He tiptoed over to the dresser where he grabbed Rick’s wallet and pulled out Shane Walsh’s business card. With a raspy and nervous breath he slid out of the room and into the hall where he dialed the number. 

It rang and Daryl thought about hanging up, his whole body shook and he kept forgetting to breath.

“Shane Walsh speaking,” The man’s velvety deep voice picked up. 

“H—H,” Daryl started but was shaking too hard.

“Its midnight, who the hell it this?” Shane’s voice was impatient, but he paused and a soft chuckle escaped. “Daryl,” he said the name like warm honey rolling off his tongue. 

“I-um…” He cleared his throat again. “Ok, I’ll do it.” Daryl said in a single breath. “Just give me my husband back.” He pleaded. 

“As you wish.” Shane mused and hung up.


	3. Choose.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane tells Daryl grow a pair and make a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you all for the bookmarks <3 I'm so happy that you're enjoying this story. 
> 
> A HUGE thank you to Jayj456 for being my Beta <3 Also I recommend reading her story Thank You Elvis, its super sexy.
> 
> Anyway, please give feedback and keep those bookmarks coming! :)

Glass Castle

~~**~~ 

 

Daryl crawled into bed beside Rick, feeling like every whisper of light that he held onto had been sucked out of him. Leaving an empty dark shadow, nothing of who he thought he was remained. What he had been reduced to just to keep the corpse of his old life preserved, even though he knew it would never be the same again. He squeezed his pillow tight to his chest and hoped he would die in his sleep, if sleep ever came. 

~~**~~

“Good morning, my baby boy.” Rick’s lips tickled his ear. Daryl smiled and stretched against his husband’s body and turned over to kiss him. 

“Mm, you smell like an ashtray.” He grumbled. 

“Your breath isn’t exactly Colgate fresh.” Rick chuckled. “How’d you sleep?” He whispered into another kiss as he tightened his arms around Daryl’s slender body. 

“Alright, I guess.” He lied. “You?” 

“Like a rock.” Rick kissed his shoulder. “I’ve been up for a while and I’ve got great news.” 

“Yeah?”

“Andrea Harrison called me about an hour ago and offered me the position.” He smiled so bright that Daryl forced everything else out of his mind, this was a good thing and he would not allow it to be anything else. He made his choice, now he had to own it and never look back. He would be their secret savior and let Rick take the credit that’s how it has to be. 

“And you thought Shane was gonna make you wait for Friday.” Daryl turned the rest of the way around to face his man. “Guess they knew better than to think hiring Rick Grimes would be anything less than a privilege.” 

“That’s right baby, daddy’s back.” 

“Go get ‘em tiger.” Daryl stifled a yawn and slid his hand down Rick’s stomach and into his sweats.

“That’s right you never sucked me off last night.” Rick teased. 

“And what makes you think I’m gonna do it now?” Daryl mumbled as he fondled Rick. 

“Now baby, you know you need your protein to stay strong.” Rick told him sternly.

“Shut up!” Daryl laughed and pushed him away. Rick grabbed Daryl’s hips to force him into a kiss as he played hard to get and squealed with laughter against Rick’s strength, “NO! No, I say!” Daryl chuckled hysterically as he was accosted with kisses. “I’m refusing you sir!” He sang as Rick rolled on top of him laughing just as hard. 

“I’ll take what I please!” He giggled as he bit down on Daryl’s neck.

“Respect my boundaries!” 

“Never!”

“You scoundrel!” They both laughed so hard that tears glassed their eyes. They paused to catch their breaths when the annoying interruption of Daryl’s phone trilled and demanded his attention.

“No baby, leave it.” Rick implored sweetly as Daryl reached for his cell. 

“Might be Maggie.” He mumbled against Rick’s lips. 

“Mmmm,” Rick grumbled.

“Hey Mag’s,” Daryl answered and tried not to gasp as Rick kissed and sucked at his nipple. 

“You’re not going to believe what just happened!” She nearly shouted and he held the phone away from his ear. 

“Huh?”

“Get over here—now,” She demanded, “As in five minutes ago.” And with that she hung up. 

“You gotta go, I know.” Rick sighed.

“Fuck me when I get back?” Daryl bit his lip flirtatiously.

“Over—and over—and over—“ Rick promised between kisses to the boys chest and neck as he pressed a finger against Daryl’s butt hole, “Whose pussy is that?” Rick asked seriously. 

“Mine.” Daryl giggled. 

“Now baby, don’t be ornery.” Rick teased and pressed the silky entrance making the boy purr. 

“Yours daddy,” Daryl confessed as his toes curled and his body tightened. 

“That’s right.” Rick smirked and pecked Daryl on the lips. 

 

~~**~~

 

The yellow taxi pulled up in front of the Art Gallery called “Art” where Daryl worked. He jumped out and dodged a few pedestrians on the way through the glass doors where he entered the simple showroom with wide plank wood floors and white walls. The gallery is filled with natural lighting from the large bay windows that display the Artist of the Month. 

“Tara,” He strides up to the counter made of a large piece of gnarly poplar. 

“Oh my god, Daryl!” She bounces excitedly.

“NO!” Maggie scolds as she rounds the corner in her white blouse and black pencil skirt. “Follow me.” She demands and Daryl exchanges a bewildered glance at Tara. He follows the sharp clicking of her stiletto heels toward the back of the gallery. 

“Maggie, what’s going on?” He asked sharply. She turns abruptly to face him and holds out her arms.

“What do you see?” She asked and he noticed a smile playing her lips. He was relieved. 

“Uh—art?” He smirked. “My art to be exact.” 

“No, dim wit!” She stamped her foot. 

“Maggie, I dunno.” He confessed blankly. 

“Jesus, Daryl!” She rolled her eyes. “All of your art is bought!” She sang. And upon closer observation Daryl saw that every piece was marked with a red sticker. 

“Holy—oh my God, someone bought my work!” He was almost excited, but suspicion eclipsed the moment.“Who?”

“Some fine ass daddy, ya know, Rick’s type showed up this morning. Which it odd because a man of his caliber usually sends an assistant,” She pursed her lips as though that really confused her. “Anyway, then he said he wanted anything made by Daryl Dixon. Then, even better, once I told him it would total twenty grand he wrote a check for forty without so much as blinking!” She shrieked and bugged her eyes out. “It’s being delivered to his firm this afternoon.” She finished. Daryl was dizzy, his mouth drying up and stomach tightening. 

“Why are you such a glory whore?” Tara demanded as she came up behind Daryl. Maggie rolled her eyes. 

“Because I’m your boss, shouldn’t you be working on the Facebook page to boost followers?” She clipped.

“Maggie, I will have all my friends like that shit just to unlike it, don’t lose your damn mind!” 

“You two are still at each other?” Daryl grumbled. 

“Uh—she’s voting for Bernie-fucking-Sanders!” Maggie groused. 

“Oh, well excuse the shit out of me but I don’t like liars!” Tara countered.

“For the love of god, you naive, idealistic millennial they’re ALL liars!” Maggie stomped. “We all lie to get what we want especially those people just ask Daryl, he lives in their world!”

“At least he wants to try!”

“Please! You actually think that dusty old mummy is going to get anything done?” Maggie seethed, “Hillary has leverage and the Republican’s fear her, not him. That’s all I need to know.” She crossed her arms. 

“Well, I’m voting for Trump.” Daryl injected and instantly received glares that could slit his throat. “I’m fucking joking, breath.” He threw his hand up. “But what she says is true Tara, they are all liars. You and me—Rick, everyone lies to get what they want.” 

“Yeah, look how that turned out for you.” Tara pointed out and walked back toward the front desk. Daryl felt bitch slapped. 

“Guess she’s got me there,” He mumbled. 

“Fuck politics, what’s going on with you?” Maggie interrogated. 

“Uh—I don’t know.” He half lies. 

“You’re not even excited you haven’t sold anything in months.” Her perfect eyebrow arched in judgment. 

“He hired Rick.” Daryl blurted hoping it would divert the conversation. 

“That’s good news,” She noted but her stare is fixed and searching. “But it’s you he’s interested in.” She adds with a knowing cynicism. Witchcraft, and not in a joking way, Daryl knows she takes her status as a Wiccan very serious, but sometimes her insight is downright creepy. 

“That’s absurd, Maggie, get real.” He snapped and stalked off toward the front with her immediately on his heels. 

“Does Rick know?”

“Know what?”

“That he bought all your work for double the price.”

“How the hell would he? I just found out.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be more than interested to know as well, once he starts at his new firm and sees it’s decked out in his boyfriends art work.” She quipped under her breath and shoved past him once he halted abruptly. He heels click, click, clicked, as she did her usual catwalk in her sky high red soled Christian Louboutin’s. 

Daryl ran his fingers through his hair, she was right. Rick would of course notice and Shane was counting on it. A game, that’s all Rick and Daryl are to him. 

 

~~**~~

 

Daryl hailed a cab but the traffic was so congested that he ended up jumping out with three blocks to go. He weaved in and out of the sea of pedestrians like the skilled New Yorker he’s become, as he dodged a few cars and got screamed at by a taxi driver.The skyscraper where Walsh & Harrison Attorneys at Law occupied the 50th-56th floor was finally in his sights and he hadn’t a clue what to do once inside. 

The lobby was extravagant with marble and brass, the floors mirror gloss marched across by stern looking business people of all ages and status. 

He hurried into an elevator with too many others and getting shuffled into the back tight against the oak paneling. Claustrophobia was kicking in and he closed his eyes once he realized how long it would take to get to the 52nd floor where Shane’s office is. Practically every floor dinged…20, 24, 25, 28, 30, 31, 36, and so on. Finally the 52nd floor and the doors slide open. 

“Excuse me…” Daryl said and no one moves as they stare at their phones. “MOVE!” He snaps and shoves is way through. 

“Welcome to Walsh—“

“Yeah, Shane Walsh” Daryl demands from the small Asian girl working the front desk. 

“He’s in deposition right now. Do you have an appointment?” She asked more curtly. 

“Mmmm no,” He grumbled. “When is he finished?”

“I can’t tell you that.” She sounded bored. 

“Then tell him Daryl Dixon is here to see him.” He raised his voice and her eyes bug out and she puts her hand up.

“I’m going to need you to bring it down a notch or ten, Ok.” She sasses him and picks up the phone. “Terribly sorry Mr. Walsh, but a Daryl Dixon is demanding to see you.” Her voice is annoyed. Daryl rocks on his heels and looks around at the office that is very different from down stairs. The walls are matte white with wainscoting and chrome accents and orchids neatly garnishing the tables aside from the large bouquet of lilies that grace the front desk where the bitchy girl works. 

“Just a moment,” The girl hung up and flashed a sarcastic smile. He ignored her and continued to notice how pristine the office is, how bright and balanced the masculine and feminine design synchronized flawlessly. He assumed Andrea Harrison had a lot to do with it. 

“Ha! I thought he was joking!” A sharp faced girl clipped in a British accent. “Follow me.” She instructed pointedly and marched down the hall, Daryl ran to catch up.

“Joking about what?” He asked pointedly. 

“You, of course, don’t remember me.” She shot over her shoulder. 

“No.” He said simply. 

“We met briefly at the DuPont Gala two years ago when it was hosted atop Rockefeller Center and I asked Rick Grime’s for a job at his firm, he ignored me and you pranced around with your nose up in the air like a preppy little peacock.” She criticized. “It seems you’ve been humbled over the past year.” She nearly laughed. 

“Yeah, well Rick works here now so I hope you’re not too comfortable.” He seethed. 

“Sad, people like you,” She stopped and turned to him. “You see Daryl a simple Google search can tell you a lot about someone. For instance, if they were raised poor white trash in the hills of Georgia and never completed high school.” Her eyes bore into his and he thought he might choke. What the fuck is going on?

“Yes, that is sad.” He agreed just above a whisper. 

“Best not to forget where we came from and not let other peoples accomplishments go to our heads.” She said simply and knocked on the large wooden door and walked away. Daryl hears the muffled sound of Shane’s voice saying to come in, but he hesitates as his nerves are now frayed in more ways than he can count. He wanted to murder that girl, he wanted to because he knew she was right, and to add insult to injury he had certainly been humbled over the past sixteen months. He just never knew how bad he had gotten beforehand, but right now he had more important issues to resolve before worrying about some random girls bruised ego. 

He took a deep breath and opened the heavy door and entered a very large office filled with books and finished with cold modern furnishings, the large window behind Shane framed a million dollar view of the city. 

Shane sat distractedly at an L shaped glass desk typing furiously on a silver MacBook. 

“Just a moment,” He mumbled to Daryl who crossed his arms. He took in Shane’s appearance and, dark, handsome, and tailored in a black suite and crisp white shirt and simple red tie. Shane huffed and snapped the laptop shut before sitting back and placing his hands behind his head. “So,” He prompted with a smug grin. 

“Doesn’t look like a deposition.” Daryl said while staring the man in the face. “You lie often?”

“Of course I do, I like getting what I want.” He shrugged and continues to grin. 

“Why do you want to ruin my life?” Daryl asked. Shane’s expression shifts and his smirk falls as he sits forward. 

“Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“You know damn well you’re lucky to have Rick as an associate, why orchestrate charade of ultimatums?” Daryl challenges him. “Do you like games, Shane Walsh?” 

“Indeed, I do.” His eyes narrowed.

“This is my life!” Daryl shouted and stepped closer. Shane didn’t falter. 

“We are all but pawns, my dear.” He kept his voice calm. 

“You don’t even pretend to be a decent person.” Daryl breathed and felt his throat restricting. 

“I haven’t lied to you, not once!” Shane’s deep voice snapped as he stood up and all the light in the world seemed to vanish in the eclipse of his wake and Daryl felt as though he might wither before him. “You made a choice.” He reminded the younger man as he rounded his desk and was suddenly standing toe to toe with Daryl. 

“What was I supposed to do? He—we need this!” 

“Don’t you dare feign innocents in my presence, Daryl Dixon. I am not you're doting husband that sees you as a child.” Shane was calm but dangerous. “You said it yourself, I would have hired him anyway if you had challenged me, but you were quick to comply.” 

“Reverse psychology has never been affective on me.” Daryl's is tone hard and challenging. “I did what I was led to believe I had to do.” At this Shane’s mouth spread into a toothy smile and his eyes crinkled in humor. 

“And what is it that you believe you should do now?”

“I don’t know.” Daryl admits, “What are my options?” 

“Why? So you can cry foul when you choose the wrong one?” Shane challenged and Daryl bristled defensively. “Perhaps I should adopt Rick’s method and make your decision for you?” He jived with a smirk and suddenly Daryl was frozen where he stood as the man’s ebony eyes bore into his sapphire blues.

Shane leans in and tilts his head, and his breath smells clean and fresh on Daryl’s face. 

“Just—” Shane muses as he undoes the third button down on Daryl’s black shirt with his thick fingers, then the fourth. “Tell me when to stop.” Daryl shutters and his knees start to betray him when he feels Shane’s fingers lace through his hair and pull his head back just enough for the dominant man’s lips to caress his collar bone. Shane kissed, tongued and nipped his way to the neck and Daryl puffs out a ragged breath and his blood starts to zap and crackle with an electrical charge that renders him speechless. 

“Tell me when, Daryl.” Shane’s husky voice whispers in his ears before he takes the tiny lobe between his teeth. 

“Uh—ah! Daryl whines as he supports himself on the man’s broad shoulders. Shane’s lips ghost across his stubbled jaw and pause torturously at the corner of his mouth.

“Choose.” Shane demands against Daryl’s skin. The newness and anticipation cause Daryl’s skin to tighten around his body and his toes curls in. 

He turns his head locks his lips with Shane’s and his heart explodes inside his chest like a tiny sun as Shane hoists him up and wraps his legs around his waist. The kiss is harsh and demanding as Daryl fists at the man’s thick black hair and presses himself hard into Shane’s mouth.

An animalistic growl rumbles in Shane’s chest and he carries Daryl over to the black leather sofa where he tosses him down. Like a lion devouring his prey he pins the boy down by his throat and effortlessly unfastens Daryl’s jeans yanking them down to his knees. 

“Suck.” He orders and shoves his large fingers into Daryl’s mouth, “Good boy.” Shane praises as his eyes burn with lust over the moaning young man tonguing and slurping on his fingers. He pulls them out and Daryl’s mouth hangs open like he can’t catch his breath when he feels the sharp intrusion of Shane’s two fingers pressing into him.

“AH—!” He yelps and Shane’s silences him with a large hand over his mouth and continues to forcefully fuck Daryl with his big fingers. It’s painful and rough but he loves it, the way the man takes him brutally and dominates his body like it’s his to do as he pleases. Daryl’s muffled whines and yelps bring forth a demon that lives just beneath the surface of Shane Walsh’s ridged exterior. 

His eye’s now onyx with dark lust and his lips part. Shane Walsh has never wanted anyone more than he wants Daryl Dixon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love some prompts for Shane and Daryl. Any hard feelings about where they should go?


	4. Let the Games Begin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick tells Daryl a secret.
> 
> Michonne tells Daryl a secret. 
> 
> Daryl learns that he has no secrets. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY it took me so long to update!
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading and following this story, it's about to get really gritty. 
> 
> ALSO, thank you so much to my Beta, Jaybez <3 I couldn't have done it without her :)

Two months had passed and the weather has shifted to an icy winter. No sign of snow just yet, but the spirit of the holidays hummed gleefully throughout the city. Rick drew the knot of his black tie up and positioned it snuggly at his throat. A smug and satisfied grin graced his full pink lips as he observed his appearance in the full length mirror. His crisp white shirt flawless and his Prada suite intricately tailored to his slender physique had him smitten with his own reflection. 

“Baby boy?” He said silkily. 

“Hmmm?” Daryl mused, from inside the walk-in closet where he slid into his new Tom Ford blazer and Burberry oxfords. 

“Have I told you how much I love you today?” He asked, over his shoulder. 

“You have,” Daryl reminded him with a bright smile, as he stepped out to look at his dapper husband. 

“Could I trouble you by saying it again?” He smirked, as he sauntered over to his starry eyed country boy in a fine suite. 

“By all means.” Daryl murmured, against Rick’s lips. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” Rick praised, between kisses. 

“I love you too daddy.” Daryl smiled, glowingly at his man. 

“I know you do baby boy.” Rick chuckled as he cupped the younger man’s jaw. “Suck my cock.” He ordered warmly. Daryl contemplated his husbands offer before pulling away defiantly. 

“Not a chance Daddy-O, we’re going to be late.” He chided, sweetly. Rick chuckled to himself as Daryl moved around him and sauntered into the bedroom. 

“You insist on making me chase after all these years?” He can’t help but feel giddy at the fact that Daryl still flirts with him like he’s never grown complacent. 

“Did you ever think I’d make it easy for you?” Daryl teases, as he runs his fingers through his hair and ties it into a neat bun at the nape of his neck. His bangs fall forward and frame his beautiful face. 

“Baby, don’t make me beg.” Rick growled, silkily as he advanced on Daryl with his sexy swagger. 

“You’ve never begged a day in your life, Rick Grimes. My husband has never begged for anything.” Daryl’s tone is almost curt as wraps his arms around Rick’s waist. 

“True.” Rick mumbled, as he caressed Daryl’s lip with his thumb. “There are amazing things to come baby boy.” He promised, and then pressed his lips to Daryl’s. 

“Amazing things already have.” Daryl said once the kiss breaks. Rick gives him an amused grin. 

“I have much bigger plans than being an associate at Walsh & Harrison.” He informed as though it should be obvious. Daryl searches his eyes, a knot developing in his gut.(What was Rick up to? How would this alter his arrangement with Shane?) “Rick, what are you saying?” He tried to sound more curious than concerned. 

“I mean I’m going to take that firm right out from under him, Andrea is a cunning business woman, she’ll do what’s best for the firm. She’ll choose me.” He explained distractedly as he started rubbing Daryl’s cock through the thin fabric of his trousers. Daryl tried to speak, but Rick placed a finger over his mouth and shushed him.

“We’ll talk about it in the car.” He promised. “Now suck my cock, you always feel better when you do.” 

Daryl couldn’t deny it though his mind was hardly thinking about sex at the moment.

“In the car,” Daryl suggested mischievously. Rick lights up. 

“Let’s go.” He purrs and without further hesitation they grabbed their overcoats and made their way down into the lobby, out into the freezing dry air before climbing into the long black Mercedes Benz that awaited them. Rick slid into the warmth of the black leather interior and situated himself on the passenger side as Daryl climbed in behind the driver’s seat. Their driver named Caesar Martinez has been chauffeuring them for the past six years and he is very good at keeping his eyes on the road. 

“Martinez, Daryl and I have some unfinished business. So, just keep your eyes on the road.” Rick winked at the handsome driver in the mirror.

“Whatever you say, ” Martinez chuckles before pulling out.

Daryl blushed and turns to his husband just in time for Rick’s thick cut cock to pop out of the fly of his trousers with a heavy slapping sound against his thigh. Daryl eagerly leans over and takes the massive penis with both hands and stroked the smooth shaft playfully as he looked up at Rick who peered down on him with a crooked smirk. Daryl slowly took the fat flared cock head into his mouth without breaking eye contact and sucked hungrily on his husbands cock like it was his last meal. 

Rick pushed his pelvis forward and rested against the headrest with a smug grin as he watched his cock sucker work hungrily for his meal. 

“Daddy’s dick taste good little faggot?” He teased gruffly. 

“Mm, hmm!” Daryl hummed happily around Rick enormous pecker while he sucked for a mouth full of his man’s cum. 

“Aw, fuck, that’s it baby boy, work for that load!” He instructed, as he grabbed a tuft of Daryl’s long hair and started to face fuck him. Daryl sputtered and choked against the invasion as Rick went full thrust into his throat, his large balls pressing against Daryl’s dripping chin. 

“Here ya go baby, it’s feeding time!” Rick nearly roared as he pulled back and stroked the last second before his thick warm sperm spattered his baby boy’s wanting face and tongue. 

“Such a good boy, you’re so good.” Rick praised, as Daryl nursed out the last drops of cum. “Come on now, let’s get you cleaned up.” Rick told him sternly as he popped his dick from Daryl’s hungry mouth and tucked the thick monster back into his trousers. 

“C’mere,” He instructed, Daryl as the smiling boy stat up. Once Daryl was upright Rick leaned in and licked a thick rope of his own cum off of the boy’s face. “Mmmm,” He mused at his own taste and pecked Daryl on the lips. “I love you.” 

Dutifully, Caesar holds up a white cloth for Rick take and wipe Daryl’s face. 

“Thank you, Caesar.” Rick chuckled and wipes the rest of his cum from Daryl’s face before handing it back to Caesar. 

“Nah, nah, that’s yours, you keep it.” Caesar grimaced. Rick laughed quietly to himself as he sat back in the seat and dug into his breast pocket for his cigarettes and rolled the window down a few inches. 

“So, you gonna keep your end of the deal?” Daryl prompted as he watched Rick light his cigarette. His cheeks hallowed and the red ember flared brightly as the blue gray smoke danced around his thoughtful expression.

“Let’s not discuss business tonight.” He tells Daryl as he exhales a jet of smoke and stares out of the window distractedly. 

“But you said—“

“I know what I said.” 

“Okay.” Daryl snapped angrily, he desperately wanted to tell Rick to go fuck himself. He hated that Rick controlled everything, even their conversations. It’s always on his terms. And why would he drop a bomb like that and then expect his husband not to ask questions? 

 

~~**~~

 

“Here’s a toast to Walsh & Harrison for yet another spectacular year in an increasingly competitive field!” Shane announced with his champagne glass before the associates of his and Andrea’s firm. “You are all amazing and driven in way’s that…well, make me a lot of fucking money!” He joked as he raised his glass. Everyone laughed and clapped. 

“Lord, he loves to kiss his own ass.” A young attorney named Glenn, mumbled to his colleague Aaron. 

“I wouldn’t mind kissing it for him.” Aaron grinned, as sipped his martini. Glenn snorted and shook his head. 

Shane continues, “And I like to think I’ve done my part in making this firm of extraordinary esquires a lot of money in return. You’ve all certainly earned it and I am proud to call you my family.” He raised his glass and everyone reciprocated with warm and satisfied smiles. “And last but not least, I am proud to boast Rick Grime’s as an associate of Walsh & Harrison. It’s a great honor!” He nodded to Rick and the room blossomed with applause. “He’s been here three months and has already raised the bar several notches and brought us major contracts that only a man of his caliber could bring to the table. Here’s to you Rick Grimes!” He raised his glass just before draining it in one go. 

 

The room with a sparkling night view of Manhattan erupted in chatter. Women in sequined gowns, men in tuxedos, and an upbeat jazz band played in the background. Rick was instantly rushed by colleagues and socialites alike, all drilling him for details about his transition from Stanford & Associates to Walsh & Harrison. 

Daryl (as always) was stuck engaging in meaningless conversations with the bored wives of whomever Rick was speaking business with at the moment. He despises how he is so presumed a “housewife”; but he also accepted that this was Rick’s job and he certainly wasn’t in a position to talk about the semantics of a law firm. So he played his role. 

 

~~**~~

 

Daryl had managed to slip away a few minutes later. Rick was caught in mind numbing discussions about cases and clients that made Daryl desperate for vodka. 

“What can I get you?” The gray haired bartender asked politely. 

“Kettle One and tonic, double. Thank you.” Daryl ordered more earnestly than he meant to. He propped himself on a sleek barstool and rested against the lit marble bar top. His eyes swept the room of dapper gentlemen and glamorous women when he realized that Shane seemed to be making it a point to know Daryl’s point of location at all times as their eyes met. But Shane’s eyes smoothly moved from Daryl’s and back to Andrea’s. 

“Dear Lord!” A disembodied woman’s voice griped from behind him. Daryl spun in his chair and was spellbound by the tall, slender black woman that slid onto the barstool beside him. She wore a dazzling black gown that shimmered in the low lighting with a low heart cut. Her head shaved and her full lips a matte blood red. “Hey, Schmitty, make it a sapphire and don’t waste any room with those olives!” She demanded from the bartender. 

“My names isn’t Schmitty— its Ronald.” He corrected her with clear annoyance.

“Yeah, I didn’t ask for your life story sweetheart.” She rolled her large beautiful eyes. 

Daryl scoffed at her disrespect and turned away from her.

“Got a problem twinkie-pooh?” She asked. 

“You’re obnoxious and rude.” He blurted out, before he could think better of it. He has no idea who this woman is or what it could cost Rick or eve Shane for his outburst, but to his surprise and confusion she tilted her head back a laughed heartily. 

“Oh, you’re a gem!” She giggled. “Make it two Schmitty, Ronald!” She rolled her eyes. 

“I-what?” Daryl asked. 

“You’re a fierce queer, I love that. Finally, someone interesting at this damn party.” She smiled brightly. “The name’s Michonne, and I know who you are.” She quirked a perfect brow. “Be impressed, I don’t take much time to recognize anyone.” Daryl laughed.

“I’m not sure fierce describes me.” He countered. “Might I ask who you are?” He hoped she wouldn’t be offended being that her ego was clearly larger enough to rival even Rick and Shane. 

“I’ll forgive you for asking only because it’s been twelve years since my last visit to the States.” Michonne smirked with her martini glass to her lips. “I’ve been in Paris ever since my divorce from Shane Walsh.” 

Daryl’s jaw nearly slammed against the bar top and he choked on his drink. She giggled and grinned mischievously. 

“It’s ancient history.” She swung her long flawless leg over her left knee. “I’ve decided I’m ready for my return to the Big Apple and figured I’d start with checking out his empire.” She polished off her martini and tapped the glass for another. 

Daryl clears his throat and says, “So, Shane was…”

“Straight?” She nearly laughed. “Things were a lot different back then. Being married to a black woman was taboo enough, being openly gay in an otherwise conservative field was not in his interest.”

“So, you knew?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Duh,” She mused.“But I was in love with him. I was the typical hag in love with her gay best friend.” She rolled her eyes at her own naivety.

“Is he a good man, somewhere in there…?” Daryl asked, and then downed the rest of his gin martini and exhaled through the burn in his chest. Suddenly Michonne leaned forward and placed her pristinely manicured fingers to her red lips that widened into an amused grin. 

“Uh-hu, you’re his type for sure.” She noted mostly to herself. 

“What?” Daryl felt his stomach drop. 

“Has he fucked you yet?” She asked directly. 

“No!” It wasn’t a lie, not completely. “Are you insane?” He snapped, but she wasn’t fazed as she held her stare. 

“Be warned little lamb, whatever charade he’s constructed to lure you in, run.” Her stare was hard as she sat back again and sipped her sapphire. 

“What do I do?” He asked, before he thought to deny it. 

“Well, Lamby you’d be wise to inform your Big Bad Wolf that there’s another alpha threatening his omega.” She says simply. “Shane Walsh is not a good man. He is cunning and efficient, but he is evil. Take it from someone who loves him dearly.”

“Rick’s not any better.” Daryl confessed.

“But he’s yours.” She insisted. “But you’re not all that defenseless, are you?” She tilts her head thoughtfully. 

“I’m not really sure what I am anymore.” He answered quietly.

“Yeah,” She says like she can read every thought in his head. “But whatever it is that you do decide, make sure you know the ramifications. Shane will tear your life apart, certainly.” She warns from experience. “But Rick Grimes, there may be angels watching over you, because if he ever finds out that you fooled around behind his back with Shane no less…” She chuckles darkly. “It’ll be all over the damn news that it is a mother fuckin’ shame what one Rick Grime’s did to his cheating lover of sixteen years. A bloodbath to go down in the history books.” 

“Rick loves me.” Daryl protested angrily. 

“Love and violence are one and the same passion my dear.” She hoped off her barstool drink in hand, “I’ll be around.” She winked and departed into the crowd. 

 

 

~~**~~

 

 

“Rick.” Daryl approaches from behind as he steps out onto the rooftop terrace; the air is freezing and dry. He loves winter. His lungs filled with the icy air and cleared his head as he advanced on his husband who appeared deep in thought as he took in the sight of the Chrysler Building. 

“Yes, my love?” Rick asked, as he exhaled the smoke from his lungs. 

“How are you?” Daryl asked, kindly as he gently takes his husbands cigarette between his fingers and takes a long draw.

“I’ve not seen you smoke in two years.”

“I’m a little drunk.” Daryl smiled with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“I like you a little drunk.” Rick smirked, as he took his cigarette back. 

“Good, but know it’s not the alcohol talking when I tell you that I’ve earned my stars in this relationship.” He started calmly and Rick gave him a quizzical look as he placed the Marlboro to his lips setting the red ember ablaze. “I’ve stood by you through thick and thin. I love you and I know you love me. But its time you stop treating me like your spoiled housewife and start treating me like a partner.” Daryl tried to sound brave and fearless without being confrontational. “I certainly earned that much.” He finished. Rick chuckled and exhaled the smoke from his lungs before flicking the butt off the roof. 

“In deed you have.” He agreed with a proud look in his eyes. “I love you Daryl Dixon, you tenacious little brat.” He cooed sweetly as he leaned in for a kiss. His breath thick with cigarette and scotch and his face rough with stubble. Daryl loved it. But he would not be distracted. 

“What are you planning to do?” He asked pulling away. Rick studies him for a moment and steps back. 

“You seem concerned…” He said as though Daryl were being dramatic. “Have I ever given reason to mistrust my judgment?” Before Daryl can respond the glass door opens and Shane calls to them with a happy smirk and a martini in his hand. 

“Gentlemen!” He greeted them with his own cigarette hanging from his lip. He is clearly intoxicated. 

“Shane, this is a beautiful party.” Daryl complimented warmly. 

“And thank you for the toast.” Rick added as he flicks his zippo lighter and lights Shane’s cigarette. 

“Well, it’s been amazing having you here, you came in guns blazing Rick.” He smiled and exhaled the smoke from his lungs. “We’re going to do great things together, I can feel it.”

“You have no idea.” Rick grinned and flashes Daryl a knowing eye. 

“No doubt about it, now excuse me while I go piss in this bush over here.” He stammered over to a large potted plant and unzips with his back to Rick and Daryl. 

“Not a bad idea,” Rick joins him a second later. Daryl shakes his head at both the indecency and sexiness in one. 

 

~~**~~

 

 

The car was silent as Rick smoked another cigarette and reflected on the night, his conversations and of course, his plan to crush Shane Walsh and take the firm right out from under him. 

Daryl cleared his throat, “May I speak?” He asked passive aggressively. 

“Of course you can.” Rick answered quietly as he stares out at Central Park. 

“I don’t think you should do whatever it is that you’re thinking.” Daryl told him directly. Rick scoffed and chuckles condescendingly. 

“Why? Because he’s such a nice guy?” He looked over at his husband curiously. 

“He took a chance on you.” Daryl mumbled. “He gave us a second chance when no one else would.” He finished and started to chew his lip. Rick stayed quiet for an uncomfortable period of time while he finished his cigarette.

“He certainly did do that.” He said finally. “But only because he wants to take whats mine.” He aded more pointedly and Daryl suddenly felt like ice water had been dumped over him. 

“W—what?” He asked, mostly out of shock than playing dumb. Rick placed his index finger to his lip and smirked out of the window before he turned to face Daryl for the first time.

“You thought I didn’t know?” He asked in a dangerously low voice. 

“Rick—I don’t—“

“Don’t waste your breath or dare insult my intelligence.” Rick scolded him calmly and goes back to staring out of the window. “I knew all along.” His gravely voice still low and collected. “That stunt he pulled with your art,” Rick scoffed, “He’s so arrogant he can’t help but tell on himself. He has to let you know he’s smarter and more clever than you. By default making him very stupid and careless.” 

“Rick, I’m so sorry, I just—“

“I know.” He smiled and reached over to caress Daryl’s fearful face. “My poor, sweet, naive Daryl, you couldn’t have know better.” He whispered as though Daryl were a small child. 

“But I —“

“Did what you thought you had to do, and I know that it wasn’t easy.” Rick smiled, mostly to himself. “I thought about killing you at first. But I reminded myself of how sheltered I’ve allowed you to be. Shane took advantage of you.” He sighed deeply as the car pulled up to their apartment building and the doorman came to open their doors but Rick held his had up for them to wait. 

“Rick—what do I do?” Daryl asked, his voice meek and quiet. 

“The only thing that’s changed is now I know.” He told Daryl.

“You mean?” Daryl’s throat threatens to close up and his hands start to tremble. “You want me to have sex with him?”

“If there is one thing I live by it is this—“

“We can’t always be proud of what we’ve done in order to be proud of what we’ve accomplished.” Daryl finished for him. 

Rick smiled and gestures for the doorman. 

“That’s right baby boy.” He said before stepping out of the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are feeling excited and intrigued. There's going to be a ton of dark secrets and betrayal in the chapters to come!


	5. She's Back.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michonne plots her revenge.
> 
> Shane might have a soft spot for Daryl.
> 
> Rick learns that Daryl's not so sweet, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited! I think/hope you are all going to love this. It's really scandalous.

~~**~~

All of Manhattan was a buzz. Office chairs rolled from cubical to cubical hosting gossipy journalist and secretaries alike. IM’s popped up on computer screens with question marks concerning the return of “The Dragon Lady.”

“Is it true?” One man asked.

“I doubt it,” A girl replied. 

“I hear she showed up at the Walsh & Harrison party unannounced,” Another young woman chimed in. 

“She’s evil.”

“She’s fierce.”

“She’s a legend.”

“Do you think she’s back to settle a score?”

“This could be huge.”

“Of course it is!”

“Michonne Baudelair is back.” The last IM chimes then suddenly the entire main floor of The New York Times falls silent as the much anticipated and feared clicking of Michonne Baudelair’s Manolo Blahniks halted at the doorway where she swept the room for familiar faces. All eye’s on her, unblinking and wide with curiosity as she remained stoic.

“Don’t you all have work to do?” Her voice, was bored. “Wasn’t there a robbery at the M&M store in Time Square you should be embellishing?” She looked as though she wanted to burn the building down as she abruptly walked away shaking her head. 

 

~~~***~~~

 

Her office door from twelve years ago, which was the third door on the left; she paused feeling uncertain of whether or not she could open that door and sit at that desk. All those years later and it hadn’t gotten any easier. She would use this to her advantage. It would fuel her ambition and give energy to her motive. 

Michonne took a deep breath and twisted the cold silver knob and pushed the ugly pine door open. The office was small and well lit with a large window behind the desk. Her breath caught in her throat as she took everything in and saw that not a single thing had changed, as though she were here just yesterday. 

Every sign of her break down still prominent and cruel to her eyes. The newspapers thrown about the room, the clippings tacked and taped to surfaces with every article about the Carl Riggs case that had gone cold after only a few weeks. She was nearly admitted into a psychiatric hospital and then Shane threatened to have her Bake Raked if she refused to desist. 

She cleared her throat and drew in a steady breath before latching the heavy door behind her. The newspapers crinkled beneath her heels as she made her way over to the desk that remained exactly as she left all those years ago. An empty wine class, a now ancient looking desktop computer, a million and one post-it’s in every color littered the surface with notes and messages. Amidst the mess was an old photograph of her and Shane in their early twenties, both fresh out of Cornell University and looking happy as they laughed about something while sitting on the hood of his old cream colored Audi. They were most likely high and talking about their dreams of becoming a famous journalist and lawyer. 

Michonne smiled from somewhere deep within and her hand pressed against her heart while the other wiped tears from her cheek. With a shuddering breath she squeezed her eyes shut and sat down in the ergonomics chair and continued to breathe steadily. She was pulled from her meditation when someone knocked softly on the door.

“Come in,” She called. The door pushed open to reveal an emotional looking woman in her late forties with short silver hair. 

“You’re back?” She choked tearfully before bounding across the office. 

“Carol!” Michonne sang and jumped up to meet her old friend with a crushing hug. 

“I was about to clean all this up before you got here!” Carol said, they broke the hug and laughed at themselves as they wiped away the tears. 

“No, I need to see it. I need to face it.” Michonne cleared her throat. 

“Everyone else left,” Carol whispered. “I’m the only one that stayed.”

“I’m so sorry I left the way I did, Carol,” Michonne slowly sat on the small red sofa with her hands clasped on her knees. “It all just happened so quickly.” Carol took the spot on the sofa next to her and reached over to squeeze her shoulder. 

“I’m not interested in what happened thirteen years ago,” She said matter of fact. “What happens now?” She prompted, her tone determined. 

Michonne breaths deeply, as though she had to confirm one last time with herself that she was ready for what she was about to do. 

“I owe it to Carl, we owe it to all journalists,” She answered. “It’s time to finish this.” Carol nodded pressing her lips into a thin line. 

“All right, I’ll start collecting the materials,” She said and stood like a soldier on a mission. “We’re gonna nail this bastard, Michonne.” 

“For Carl,” Michonne pledged, as she stood. 

“For Carl,” Carol turned, and was out of the office to fulfill her mission. Michonne went straight to her desk and sat down amongst the clutter.

“Okay,” She mumbled to herself and pressed her tongue between her lips as her eye’s scanned the newspaper articles that littered her desk. She started slowly, but picked up a rhythm of organizing the articles by headlines and then by dates, she constantly avoided looking at the pictures of Carl Riggs for a second longer than necessary before adding it to the pile of articles set aside just for him. But one caught her eye, despite her best efforts to push forward she snatched it up and stared hard at the picture of the young boy with long hair and freckled cheeks and began reading the new paper clipping dated, November 11, 2003. 

 

_______

 

“A journalist, 21 year old Carl Riggs was killed today when he fell on to the tracks and was hit by an oncoming train at the 110th St. subway station. Eye witnesses had conflicting stories about the manner in which Carl Riggs ended up on the tracks, some saying that he appeared to have been shoved. More details will be released upon further investigation.” 

_______

 

She set it down and felt her jaw grinding down on her teeth and her heart clenching. She looked over at the other pile of clippings and snatched them up and began rifling through them until she found the one she was looking for dated, November 13, 2003. 

 

________

 

“Rick Grimes was taken in for questioning last night concerning the death of journalist, Carl Riggs. Investigators say that eye witnesses put him at the 110th St. Subway station just moments before Riggs died. He was released this afternoon and still remains a suspect. It is believed that Rick Grimes was being questioned by Carl Riggs about the integrity of his premature climb to partner at the Garrison & Weaver Law Firm. It was suspected that extortion was involved to implicate the sudden promotion that shocked many when handed to the 27 year old attorney shortly following the death of previous partner, Morgan Penn.” 

_________

 

Michonne dropped the stack of clippings as though she had been electrocuted by them. The phone on her desk trilled and pierced her concentration and nearly made her jump out of her skin. 

“Hello?” She answered, calm and collected. 

“It’s strange, calling this number again.” The man’s voice was warm and gruff. She smiled ear to ear and rolled her eyes.

“Shane,” She replied sweetly, “I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too, Michi,” He sighed heavily, “I hate that I couldn’t speak to you at the party.”

“I know, but we have to be covert,” She explained. “I did what I went there to do and left.” 

“What did you think?” Shane asked, curiously. 

“The boys got fangs, for sure,” she said thoughtfully as she sat back in her chair and crossed her legs, “but I wouldn’t underestimate his loyalty to Rick.” She finished and Shane chuckled. 

“Daryl’s a sweetheart, so don’t be too hard on him.” Shane said, fondly of the younger man.

“Sure, back him against a wall and see if Twinky-Pooh doesn’t claw your eyes out.” She listened, for Shane’s response, but he was quiet and Michonne could hear the sound of his lighter flicking through the receiver as he lit a cigarette. “We need him to turn against, Rick.” She reminded. 

“He already is,” He exhaled. “He just doesn’t know it yet.” 

“Does Rick know?” She asked.

“Rick’s not stupid, he’s been sizing me up lately and it’s not because he wants to fuck me.” Shane said, “What did you say to Daryl at the party?” 

“Nothing he didn’t already know,” She sounded distracted as she fingered through the post-its on her desk. “I just planted some seeds of reverse psychology.” 

“Such as…” He pried. 

“I told him that both of you are evil and that he should inform his husband about the circumstances,” she sighed deeply. “I told him he’s an omega.” 

“You sneaky bitch,” Shane chuckled. 

“The more he starts to demand Rick’s respect the more he’ll start to see who Rick really is.” She explained. 

“And then you think Daryl will help the girl?” Shane asked. 

“I’ll be paying her a visit tomorrow.” Michonne confirmed. 

“You think she’ll go for it?” He asked. 

“I’ve done my homework on her,” she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, “she’s been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time.” A long silence fell between them as they processed the seriousness or what they were about to do. 

“I’ll see you around, Michi,” Shane told her. “It’s good to have you back.” 

“It’s good to be back.” She smiled to herself.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

 

~~**~~

 

Rick stood at the giant window of the living room and watched a young blonde woman writhe in ecstasy as her Latino boyfriend ate her out, his head squeezed between her milky thighs as his fingers spread her open. Rick tilted his head as though it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen and smirked at the thought of eating her Latino boyfriend’s ass. 

Suddenly, Rick was pulled from his mindless appreciations of cunnilingus when the blaring and guttural lyrics of Rammstein flooded the apartment with anger and the linguistic sound of a Germanic sacrifice. 

He gripped his wine glass so tight he thought it might shatter in his grip. Daryl hadn’t spoken four words to him since the night of the party, one week ago. Rick smoldered for a second and rubbed the bridge of his nose before turning sharply and marching to the door across the living room and wrapping on the door. 

“Daryl!” He shouted over the growl of German metal. Daryl did not answer, in fact, Rick was sure the music got louder.

Inside the studio, Daryl was frantic with inspiration, anger, fear, hate. He hadn’t showered in two day’s and his creations were pissing him off. 

A floor to ceiling window to his left and three mercilessly paint spattered walls that were once a simple white. He bent over and dipped his hands into the bucket of mushy gray clay, the cool wetness soothing to his dried skin that was tight with dry paint and clay. He squeezed his fist and focused on the silky texture squishing between his fingers. The music hard and heavy with purposeful angst, “Mein Herz Brennt!”—“My heart burns.” 

Daryl rocked his head back on his shoulders and thought he heard the sound of Rick knocking on the door. He decided to ignore his husband as a surge of violent rage shot through his nervous system like electricity and he scooped up as much of the heavy slop as he could and whipped it across the room where it exploded against the wall, showering the room. 

He heaved heavily and tried to steady himself as he took in the graveyard of shattered sculptures and miscellaneous art supplies. He was in sensory overload and couldn’t hone in on one single emotion long enough to execute anything he started. 

He stabbed at the power button and the roaring music died instantly and left him in a deafening silence that prickled in his ears. 

“Daryl,” Rick mumbled quietly, from behind the door. “You don’t have to talk to me, but please come out and eat something.” He implored, resting his forehead against the door. He jumped back when the door flew open to reveal a very aggressive Daryl who shoved past him and marched straight towards the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Rick asked.

“Gotta take a dump!” Daryl spat over his shoulder. Rick was not so taken aback by the statement, but how guttural Daryl’s southern accent sounded, he hadn’t sounded like that in nearly a decade. 

Rick followed peevishly as he heard the bathroom door slam shut. He walked up to the door and cleared his throat.

“What’s the matter, Daryl?” He asked through the door.

“Go the fuck away!” Daryl snarled, and instantly the door flew open and Rick stormed in and stood directly in front of Daryl with his arm crossed and his expression blank. 

“Rick, what the fuck? I’m on the toilet!” He protested.

“I can’t get you to talk to me anywhere else, so you’re gonna keep your ass on that porcelain and your gonna communicate with me, like a god damn adult!” Rick demanded. 

“Can I finish?” Daryl snapped. 

“You’ve pooped in front me before.” Rick rolled his eye’s.

“Not while trying to have serious conversation, no, I haven’t,” He countered. “Get out!”

“Fine, but I’ll be waiting outside and you will speak to me.” Rick told him sternly and left the bathroom. 

Half an hour later, Daryl exited the bath after a quick shower and brushing his teeth to find the bedroom dark and empty. His nose caught a hint of cigarette smoke and he knew Rick would be on the terrace, still. He followed the sounds of the city that crept in through the half opened door and stepped out into the frigid night air, it would snow soon—he could smell it. 

He saw Rick, and took him in for a moment before approaching. Daryl loved to watch his husband in candid moments, he always looked so thoughtful as he smoked, laid back with his feet up and an expression of existential pondering. Daryl wished he could stop being so in love with this man, but he knew that even if that were possible that losing his love for Rick would be to kill a part of himself. 

“Rick…” he mumbled, quietly as he came up from behind. 

“Daryl…” Rick acknowledged, but didn’t turn around as he took a long drag from his cigarette that flared red in the twilight. “Have you calmed down?” He asked, and exhaled a thick jet of smoke into the cold night air. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Daryl said, and pressed his lips into a stiff smile. 

“Then talk to me, please.” Rick implored, almost sounding whimsical as he slowly exhaled another chest full of smoke. 

Daryl chuckled nervously and ran his fingers through his damp hair that was starting to freeze on his head. 

“I just felt,”He paused to choose his words, “I just feel like I’ve only started to know who you are, after all these years.” He confessed flatly. 

“Go on…” Rick prompted, patiently. 

“And I feel slighted.” He said, and took the teakwood chair beside his husband’s right side. 

“Because of, Shane?” Rick asked dubiously and chuckled darkly. Daryl bristled. 

“Yes, because of, Shane,” He snapped. “And because of the ease in which you give me to him do I wonder about the things you’ve done that I know nothing about.” Daryl tried to keep his voice even but he could see Rick morphing. 

“That’s right bay boy, you don’t know a FUCKING thing!” He barked, and lunged forward so that he was nose to nose with Daryl. Cigarette and wined bathed his breath as he stared hard into the younger man’s hard and fearful eyes. 

Daryl remained frozen as Rick forced himself to relax back into his chair. 

“Then tell me,” Daryl pleaded tearfully as he watched Rick finger another cigarette out of his pack of Marlboros. 

Rick lit his cigarette and tried to collect himself once again as he contemplated his next move or better yet, prioritized his confessions. 

“I just want you to trust me.” Daryl whispered and then cleared his throat. “I want this to be our life together, not just me, being your clueless beneficiary.” He explained as he gently took the cigarette from Rick’s finger into his own. “Tell me why, and I’ll do anything you want.” He tells his husband, and took a drag from the cigarette. He inhaled and felt his lungs expand with smoke and crisp icy air before he exhaled. 

Rick watched him carefully for a long moment and smile as though something sweet and nostalgic crossed his mind.

“My sweet, sweet, Daryl,” He murmured as Daryl handed him the cigarette. “All I ever wanted was to give you a good life, one I’ve always thought you deserved, while protecting you from the ugliness of the decisions I’ve had to make.” He shakes his head and rubs the bridge of his nose. 

“But, why did you not confront me about it, or, Shane, if you knew?” Daryl asked. 

“Because, I had to come to the realization that my sweet, sweet, Daryl had made an adult decision to do what he thought he had to do to make this work.” Rick explained, “Because I knew then that you had lost all faith in me.” His voice broke and he curled his lips in, but his blue eye’s glossed over with tears. “I failed you.” He choked out the last words. 

Daryl stiffened his posture and sucked up his own tears. He had never seen Rick cry, not ever.

“Hey,” Daryl got up and went to sit in Rick’s lap. His husband wrapped his arms around him after flicking his cigarette over the balcony. “We’re going to be all right,” Daryl soothed and caressed Rick’s cheek. 

“Has he fucked you?” Rick asked fearfully. Daryl turned to look him straight in those beautiful blue eyes.

“No,” He said, firmly. “He has never been inside of me.” Daryl told him the truth. Rick gave a weak, half smile. 

“I’m surprised because he isn’t the type to hold out.” Rick said. 

“Maybe not, but I am.” Daryl told him, “I couldn’t stand the thought of having him inside of me right before I came home to you. Or the thought of kissing you after I’d had his cock and cum in my mouth.” His words are abrasive but honest. 

“So, what are thinking you should do?” Rick asked, his eye’s sad but hopeful. Daryl felt a strange and foreign swelling in his gut. Was Rick really turning to him for advice? 

“You were right, when you said that I’m naive and that he took advantage of that,” Daryl told Rick. “But he was naive too.” 

“How so?” Rick asked with an adoring smile as he looked up at his soulmate. 

“Because he underestimated the power of us—as a couple.” Daryl told him. “I trust you won’t do the same, from here on out, you tell me everything, and vice—versa.” He doesn’t ask so much as demand. Rick smiles wide and toothy, his eyes light up, his boy had become a man. 

“So, what do you think I should do?” He asked. 

“I think it’s very simple,” Daryl started .“I think you have to kill, Shane Walsh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guy's think of the character development so far?!


	6. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Beginning: where we find out who they were and where they came from before the evolved into the ruthless monsters they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been about a year, lol. I'm so sorry for the delay, I really appreciate all who have waited patiently and I hope this chapter delivers. This will be a 3 part backstory before we return to their current day life in NYC. 
> 
> A very BIG thank you to Jayj456! author of Thank You Elvis and Dismantle The Sun. She's the best :) <3

Glass Castle: The Backstory

 

~~**~~

 

Summer seemed to be passing by too quickly, carried away on the warm breeze that rustled the leaves of the giant Live Oak that towered over him. Rick sat with his back slumped against the rough tree bark, enjoying the shade and the lazy haze that bathed the University campus as students strolled by with no hustle in their steps. He had graduated that Spring and would be leaving for law school in New York City in another month.

He picked at the emerald grass, not giving it any thought as he stared dreamily at a boy who sat alone at one of the round cement tables, his nose always buried in G.E.D books for as long as Rick had been observing him since last semester. He wondered if the boy with long sandy blonde hair and a nervous nail chewing habit had ever actually attempted to take the test or if he was too afraid to fail.

To Rick, a general education test seemed elementary. His father Charles Grimes was one of the biggest failures he had ever known and Rick loathed him more often than not. But one thing Rick hadn’t always appreciated in his old man was that Charles Grimes would be damned if his son was a failure too. Everything in Rick’s life had been about school, competition and, winning.  
And because of that, Rick had thought passively about approaching the beautiful boy and helping him pass his G.E.D. It would be an easy feat for him and maybe he would win a kiss and a phone number.

Rick chuckled as the boy angrily shoved his bangs out of his face for the hundredth time. But the breezed tousled it right back and he snapped the large book shut with a huff. 

“Is that Richard Grimes, I see?” A girl’s voice called from behind. He smiled knowingly and sat up to face her. 

“Maggie Greene.” He greeted. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you, you graduated back in May.” She laughed and offered him her hand to hoist him up. He grunted as he stood and dusted off his butt before nodding in the boy’s direction, knowing she would understand. 

“I see.” She whispered. 

“Just thought I’d say goodbye…from a distance.” He watched as the boy crammed his books into his tattered backpack with a cigarette between his lips.  
Maggie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, which caused Rick to give her an annoyed side eye.

“Daryl’s only sixteen and you’re twenty-four, I’ve got good reasons for not introducing you to him.” She argued before Rick could accuse her of cock blocking. 

“You’re only eighteen and you date a guy in his fifties.” Rick said. She made a face like she had sucked on a lime. 

“Please, I broke up with him last week.” She shrugged. “He had old man ass.” Rick snorted and shook his head before giving her his best puppy dog face. 

“No,” She said, simply. 

“Why?” He asked, annoyed. “Just give me one good reason.”

“Because.…” Maggie said, her voice calm but assertive. “He’s a serial killer, has lice, farts in his sleep or…drowns kittens…I’m just lookin’ out for ‘im.” She said, with a small sigh. “He comes from nothing. You come from everything, you’re not perfect, but your parents are millionaires and they love you. He’s never known any of that.” 

“So your solution is to make sure that nobody ever loves him?” Rick asked pointedly. 

“Rick, you’re leaving at the end of Summer, anyway.” She said, as a means to close the discussion. “And you’ve never even met him, stop being a drama queen and acting like I’m keeping you from your soulmate.” She said.

“You could be.” He reasoned. 

“Drama queen.” She said, with a snicker. 

“Fine.“ Rick said, and placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it. Maggie quirked her eyebrows at him, questioningly. He exhaled a smooth jet of smoke from between his full lips and gave her a one shouldered shrug. “I tried to be diplomatic about it but you’ve left me no other choice.” He said, and started to stride off in Daryl’s direction. Maggie balked and rushed after him. 

“You’re a pain in the ass!” She snapped, angrily. 

“Oh, how I long to hear those same words from Daryl’s mouth.” He teased, and immediately received a swift punch to his bicep. 

“Pig!” 

“Cock blocker.”

“Queer!” 

“Wench!’

“Richard, so help me god, I—“

“Hey, Daryl!” Rick called, cutting her off. The other boy was swinging his backpack over his shoulder when he turned to find the source of his beckoning. Maggie whined helplessly and dropped her arms to her side and slumped in a dramatic tantrum. Rick flicked his cigarette away as he advanced. 

“Yeah?” Daryl said, his eyes narrowed in suspicion from behind his bangs as he watched the stranger approach with his best friend in toe. 

“Hi, I’m Rick Grimes.” Rick introduced himself, confidently. 

“Er—Ok…” Daryl said, sounding dumb and uncomfortable with the abrupt and forced interaction. Maggie cleared her throat and stood next to Daryl. 

“Rick was just—“

“Admiring how beautiful you are.” Rick said, cutting Maggie off while he continued to look the other boy in the eyes; they were so green and inquisitive. Daryl shifted awkwardly like he had never been paid a compliment in his life.

“Well, looks don’t matter to me.” He said, sounding cold and aloof, but Rick was not deterred as his pouty pink lips quirked to the side and he smiled at the irony of Daryl’s words. 

“I suppose it’s easy for you to take for granted, since you’ve never been ugly.” Rick told him. Daryl faulted that time, swallowing hard as he glanced over to Maggie for help.

“It’s just that Daryl’s an artist—“ She said.

“Then I’m sure he appreciates my observation.” Rick cut her off, again. Daryl nodded and grunted like a cave man, Rick knew that that was probably a win. 

“I—uh—well, I think you’re—um—ya know…too.” Daryl muttered, sheepishly. Rick beamed from so far within his soul that he thought his chest might explode. He smiled so hard that it hurt and bounced on his heels. 

“Well, listen Daryl,” He said. “I’m having a fourth of July party at my house tomorrow night and I’d really like it if you and Maggie would come.” He said, and saw Maggie roll her eyes and Daryl’s thumb shot up to his mouth while he rocked on his heels.  
Rick smirked and leaned in to Daryl’s personal space, “Is that a yes?” He asked, as if the boy were a small child. Daryl nodded and dropped his thumb from his lips.

“Yeah—Imma go.” He grunted, his southern accent was thick and back woods, unlike Rick’s proper Savannah cadence.

  
~~**~~

Rick drove his classic red Saab convertible through downtown Savannah, top down, wayfarers on and feeling like he’d just won the boy of his dreams. It was like he had a bunch of fluttery red hearts dancing around his head and his stomach so full of butterflies he thought it might just float away. 

The sun was still high in the sky as he turned down the tiny sloped street that eventually lead into his parent’s two-mile driveway that was lined with towering Live Oaks, shrouded in Spanish moss. The white Antebellum mansion at the end was nothing short of monumental in its size and beauty. Everything dwarfed in its impressive wake. The Grimes’ Mansion stood four stories high, with giant wrap around porches on the first three levels and it sat on just over seventy-five acres of land.

He got out of the Saab and climbed the wide steps, two at a time, on to the extensive porch. The mahogany door was ajar, Rick paused for a moment before pushing against its weight and testing the brass knob as he stepped inside.

“Ma?” He called, latching the door behind himself. There was no answer as he advanced further into the all-white interior and started up the grand staircase when the sound of shattering glass broke the stillness from within the kitchen. “Mom!” He shouted and bounded down the hall and into the kitchen to find his mother sitting at the table, smoking a cigarette and looking thoughtful. 

“Oh, Richard…” She said, boredom saturated her tone. “Liza made my drink wrong, so I threw it across the room for her to clean up.” She explained. Rick shot her a nasty look before running over to help the poor elderly woman that was crouched over, cleaning his mother’s mess. 

“Oh, no!” The maid protested. “I’ve got this Richard. I have this, go on, now!” She shooed him away. Liza had always been more of a mother to him than the horrid drunk that sat across the room who birthed him. Once the glass and drink was cleaned up he sent Liza away to do as she pleased with the rest of the day.

“You always liked her best.” Mrs. Grimes said, rubbing her cigarette out in the ashtray. Rick scowled at her as he prepared another drink. 

“Satan would have been a better nurturer than you, Miranda.” He said, flatly. “A pack of wild hyenas, badgers…Jeffery Dahmer, even.” He continued while she chuckled at his criticism. He walked over to her and placed the glass of vodka on the rocks with a twist of lemon, in front of her. She placed it to her lips then closed her eyes, bringing the cold glass to the base of her throat as though it was the only thing in the world that could bring her happiness. 

Rick hated her, but his heart often broke for her in ways he never entirely understood. She was a force to be reckoned with, always stunning and statuesque, always in black and always unreachable. But as nature took its course and she had to work harder at beauty and began to obsess over her lost youth and pending vitality, the more bitter and unbearable she became.  
She twirled her long, manicured finger in her blonde hair as she let the burn of vodka ease her mind before turning her attention to her son. 

“So, where have you been?” She asked, accusations danced on her tongue as she sipped her drink. 

“Out.” Rick said. She chuckled darkly at his evasiveness and pointed a finger at him. 

“You’ve been out, gallivanting with the pianist hood rat you like to play butt darts with!” She accused, sharply. 

“Caesar Martinez is a very talented music major at SCAD.” Rick said. “What great accomplishments do you have to boast, other than being beautiful, inheriting your family’s money, my father’s fortune, and still harboring enough self-pity to entomb yourself in a world of drunken bitterness and self-destruction.” He said, coldly. And as anticipated, she stood and struck him across the face. 

“I may not win mother of the year, but you will respect me!” She shrieked. “I don’t give a damn about what you do in secret, but you’re a Grimes. You have an obligation to upkeep the family name and image!” She screamed, her face filled with lines and anguish that seemed to age her instantly in her fit of rage. “Do you think I go out like this? That I make a show of being a sloppy drunk, a faded beauty or a cold, self-centered woman who cared more about her freedoms than she did her own child?” She was crying now and wiping the tears from her eyes before she continued. “No, no…when I go out, Savannah sees Miranda Grimes, poised, worldly and glamorous.” She told him, composing herself again and taking a deep breath. “This is the deep south, and it’s where we have roots, those who have power and want to keep it keep secrets, it’s what southern wealth is based on…lies.” She finished, picked up her drink and downed it in one go. 

“Gay isn’t what it used to be, mother.” Rick mumbled, wiping the blood from his lip. She chuckled and rubbed her forehead as she sauntered over to the liquor cabinet to pour another drink.

“You should hear him sing.” He continued, softly. 

“Is it serious?” She asked. 

“No, I just enjoy his company, its casual.” He said. Miranda shook her head and poured the vodka.

“Then stop defecting on the family name for a guilty pleasure.” She said. “People are talking and you’re right, it’s not about you being gay. It’s about with whom you’re engaging with. You’ve always loved the company of riffraff from the wrong side of town.” She pointed out and sipped her beverage. “I’m sure he sings like an angel, that he plays piano like Chopin and he is something to look at.” She admitted. “But at what cost, Rick?” She asked before sipping her vodka. “What’s so funny?” She asked when she saw the smirk on her son’s face. 

“Tomorrow, I’m hosting a Fourth-Of-July party, here at the house, and if you can’t handle the musical prodigy, wait till you meet the guy I am serious about, Daryl, the scruffy redneck who is trying to get his G.E.D.” He said and picked one of her cigarettes from the silver case on the table, lit it and pivoted on his heel to walk away when he heard the ominous laughter or his mother from behind him. 

“It all makes sense now.” She said, rubbing her fingers into the palm of her other hand. “You’re so much like your father I could puke, its cliched at best.” She spoke mostly to herself, now, her lips pressed into a hard line and her eyes squeezed shut. “Just like he did, you enjoy the company of lesser people because you can easily control them. It’s not about love or pity, it’s about manipulation.” She accused. Rick balked and sucked hard on his cigarette before responding. 

“I enjoy the company of so called riffraff because they’re more real and have a better grasp on life than any your Savannah High Society, pompous bores could ever understand!” He shouted. 

“HA! Don’t flatter yourself Ricky, we both know you’re not that deep.” She told him, through gritted teeth. 

“Then what does that make you, since father was so fond of trash?” Rick snapped. Miranda huffed out a laugh as she sauntered over to the table to light a cigarette. 

“I was the armor that clad the coward he was beneath.” She said, simply around plumes of smoke. “Along with his name came more recognition, being an Ashton and a Debutant gave me influence. Being a Grimes gave me power.” She said, simply.

“Well, aren’t you deep.” Rick said, taking a long drag off of his cigarette. 

“Oh, no my dear…you see, the difference between you and I is self-awareness. It’s a strength possessed by few. Once you come to terms with who you truly are you can stop hiding behind fallacious delusions of grandeur, then the world is yours without apologies or excuses.” She said, as she exhaled a stream of smoke from between her coral lips. “All I’m saying it that you’ve exceeded beyond petty games, with petty people in which you will garner nothing. Its time to set your sights a bit higher than residual teenage rebellion, you’re twenty-four, grow up.” She told him, and pushed past him to leave the kitchen. 

“Can you condense that for me?” Rick asked, over his shoulder as snuffed his cigarette out in the ashtray. 

“Harness the privileges you were born into, and pulverize anything or anyone that stands in the way of your greatness.” She explained, as she continued to walk away and ascend the stairs. “We cannot always be proud of what we’ve done in order to be proud of what we’ve accomplished.” She called over her shoulder. Rick waited for the sharp sound of her heels to disappear up the stairs before grabbing the receiver of the wall phone and punching a phone number.

“Hello?” Caesar Martinez, answered. 

“Hey, wanna suck my dick?” Rick asked, bluntly. He heard the other boy chuckle and mention something about him being so eloquent. 

“I’d say yes, but I have voice lessons to teach in an hour.” Caesar said. Rick smiled at the thought of his friends singing. 

“Maybe after?” Rick asked, hopefully. 

“I can do that.” Caesar said, happily. 

“Great, and if you’re lucky I’ll eat your ass.” Rick promised. Caesar sucked his teeth and Rick knew he was rolling his eyes.

“Whatever, if you’re lucky you’ll eat my ass.” He laughed and hung up. 

Rick smiled as he hung up the turquoise wall phone and sat down in the chair his mother was previously occupying. He lit another cigarette and poured vodka into the short glass of ice that Miranda had left behind, he found himself again, wishing he could be more like her and still resenting her at the same time. He knew he had to stop being petty, just to piss her off, he knew that it was time to step up and start putting much bigger plans into action before certain doors of opportunity closed forever.

~~**~~

  
Rick and Caesar laid on the area rug in the living room and stared at the chandelier while listening to one of Caesar’s students play the grand piano and sing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”. Her voice was melodic, and she was softer spoken than her sister, Maggie. Caesar passed Rick the cigarette they were sharing before rolling onto his elbow to face him.

“Awfully pensive for a guy that just had loads sucked out of him.” Caesar said, a smile played his lips as he watched Rick smoke. 

“I’m just listening to Beth’s singing…” He said, quietly. 

“Describe it to me.” Caesar said, taking the cigarette between his fingers, again. Rick licked his lips and thought about the girl’s voice that resonated in his heart chambers like a ghost whispering somber hymns into the emptiness. 

“Haunting, forlorn,” Rick answered, and reached up to caress the other boy’s cheek. Caesar knitted his brows together and stared into Rick’s sapphire eyes.

“It’s unlike you to be so evasive, talk to me.” Caesar said. Rick’s chest rose and expanded as he sucked the smoke deep into his lungs and exhaled, sitting up on his elbow, mirroring his friend and rubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray. 

“You know this is only casual, right?” Rick said shamefully hoping it wasn’t the case anymore. Caesar was the closest thing he had ever had to a boyfriend. If Caesar couldn’t love him then who could? 

“You’re so conceded.” Caesar smirked. “I could see falling in love with you, but I know better.” He whispered, honestly. Rick swallowed thickly and cleared his throat, visibly crushed and fighting to compose himself. 

“Am I really that poisonous?” He asked, as tears fell silently down his cheeks. 

“Yes,” Caesar said. His eyes were apologetic but he stood by it as he watched his heartbroken friend wipe tears from his cheeks. Beth had segued into another song, “Smile” by Natalie Cole. 

“What’s wrong with me?” Rick said, his voice breathy and choked up. Caesar caressed his friend’s cheekbone with his finger tips and smile softly. 

“Your thirst for greatness will always be greater than your commitment to a mere mortal, like myself.” Caesar told him. “I am only interesting today, but once I’m a regular music major with no job or teaching children piano, your romanticized version of me will die, and so would your love.” He said, smiling and placing a sweet kiss on his friend’s lips. Rick cleared his throat and chuckled as a last effort to gather himself. 

“No one will ever sing to me the way you do…” He mumbled. 

“And no one ever will.” Caesar said, teasingly. And as if it were rehearsed, he sang out the last few notes of the song, with Beth, “Smile, what's the use of crying, you’ll find that life is still worthwhile, if you’ll just smile.”

  
~~**~~

  
“Richard!” Rick heard his mother shout from outside his room. 

“Yes, Miranda!” He called, peevishly. She opened his door with the clank of an old latch.

“Ah, there you are.” She said, stepping and closing the door. Rick observed her behind him in the full-length mirror as he buttoned his fresh white shirt. She wore a form fitting black cocktail dress, classic Channel heels and her neck shrouded in diamonds that gleamed like the Milky Way. 

“You look stunning, mother.” Rick said, politely. She placed her slender hands on both of his shoulders and a small smile graced her coral lips. 

“You’re dangerously handsome, just like your father.” She complimented. “And that voice…” She chuckled and stepped away, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she sat on the edge of Rick’s bed. “I hear him every time you speak.” She said, her expression fogged with nostalgia. Rick turned away from the mirror to give her a questioning look.

“What do you want?” He asked.

“I’m attempting to be civil.” She said, looking genuine. 

“Which means you want something…” Rick said, criticizing her motives, Miranda pressed her coral lips into a hard line and her forehead creased with concentration. 

“Bring him to me.” She said, after a long pause. 

“Daryl? No, under no circumstances are you to interact with him.” Rick scoffed, striding past her to grab his silver cigarette case off the dresser. At that, Miranda threw her head back and laughed at her son’s stubbornness. 

“What are you afraid I’m going to do? Hex him with irritable bowel syndrome so that you have no choice but to keep it in your pants?” She laughed, again and stood up, smoothing the front of her Valentino dress. 

“He still has a mouth.” Rick said, tersely. His mother rolled her eyes as she teased her hair with her fingers. 

“Don’t be vulgar, I am still your mother.” She reminded him, sounding bored with the conversation. Rick mirrored her eye roll and lit his cigarette before snapping the silver case shut and sliding it into the breast pocket of the blazer he was shrugging into. 

“What could you possibly hope to garner from meeting Daryl Dixon?” Rick asked, as plumes of smoke swirled around his head. 

“Dixon…” Miranda said. She became rigid and visibly unnerved. “As in correlation to the Dixon’s?” She swallowed hard and stared daggers at her son. 

“I assume that they are related, I didn’t ask as I do not care.” He replied. But the truth was that Rick did know. And he could sense the pending storm that brewed in his mother’s chest at that very moment. 

“He’ll be here tomorrow?” She asked, pointedly. 

“Yes,” Rick answered. 

“And where are you going tonight?”

“Out with Caesar to a bar on River Street.” He said, sucking his lungs full of smoke and trying not to appear nervous. “And where are you off to tonight?” He asked. She stared at him for a long moment before huffing out a small laugh. 

“Nowhere special,” She told him. 

“Looking like that?” Rick said, honestly surprised. 

“One never knows who they might run into.” Miranda said, and left the room abruptly with a sharp click of the latch.

  
~~**~~

  
Miranda descended the grand staircase in a rush for the liquor cabinet. Liza was reading a book by the flameless fireplace in her favorite wingback chair. 

“A Dixon, Liza!” Miranda fumed. “A God damn Dixon!” Her heels echoing through the grate room as she marched up to the liquor cabinet and tore it opened. 

“Lady, I’m just the help, like I give a steaming shit about your social tragedies.” Liza said, snapping her book shut. Miranda scoffed and sipped her whiskey. 

“You’re not still butt hurt about earlier, are you?” She asked, indifferently. 

“Sleep with your door locked.” Liza told her. 

“Thanks for the warning, but I haven’t slept since 1972.” Miranda said, mirthfully around the rim of her crystal glass. 

“And all these years I just assumed you were sleeping upside down in the attic with the rest of the dusty old shit you keep up there.” Liza teased, getting up from her chair to join Miranda at the long table. She picked up the crystal decanter and poured herself a glass of the amber whiskey. 

“So, what are you going to do?” She asked her boss, matter of fact. 

“I don’t know yet.” Miranda said, lost in thought. “But I think its time I reminded some people who’s the baddest bitch in town.” She said, seriously as she downed her whiskey. 

“Does it involve scandal?” Liza asked, her eyes lit up. Miranda chuckled as she felt an alliance forming and poured herself and her accomplice another glass.

“But of course.” She promised.

“Then count me in.” Liza giggled, and clinked her glass to Miranda’s. “Just like old times.”

  
~~**~~

Daryl found himself in an unusual state. He was giddy and his stomach was a mess with nervous energy as Maggie wistfully moved about the consignment shop. 

“I’ve got more than enough to buy you a nice outfit for tonight.” Maggie said, when she noticed the puss on her friend’s face. 

“He liked me jus’ fine th’ way he saw b’fore…” Daryl protested. 

“Yeah, but he’s not going to be the only person there and people will notice a Dixon walking around the Grimes Estate. You gotta show them that you can hold your own and mingle with the best of ‘em!” She said, like she was Tony Robins. 

“You mean you wanna polish a turd.” Daryl criticized. Suddenly he was feeling more nervous than giddy. He hadn’t even thought about all the other snooty people that would be there…what if the whole thing was a joke?

“You’re not a turd, you’re a ten and half…a really scruffy one.” She said, then tossed a pile of clothes in his arms and shoved him towards the fitting room. 

“Wha’ if they make fun o’ me?” He asked, from inside the mirrored cubical. 

“Well, my family isn’t considered high society but we’re respectable, with daddy bein’ a doctor and all.” She said, distractedly as she pilfered through some other clothing options to toss over the door. 

“Ok, and…?” Daryl snapped, impatiently.

“Oh, sorry, anyway, we know pretty much everyone that will be there and lets just say, they all live in glass castles. If they throw stones at you I’ll shatter their fucking kingdom.” She said, with great conviction to her tone. Daryl smiled to himself and steadied his nerves knowing she would be there with him.

“You are a very clever witch.” He told her. 

“Be careful how loudly you say that!” She hissed, and heard Daryl grunt his apology. A smirk played her lips as juicy gossip tickled her tongue. “But you know, I’m not the only one in town with a dangerous secret.” She bit her lip, knowing she should not speak such things, but fuck it, the rich people were the worst gossips of all which left no incentive to protect their honor. 

“Oh yeah?” Daryl mumbled, apathy hung heavy from his words like cinderblocks. 

“Seriously, you're not gonna bite?” She asked, annoyed. 

“Nuh uh.” He grunted, pulling off a hideous magenta blazer that Maggie had picked out. 

“Fine, I won’t tell you how Rick’s mom murdered her husband when he was going to leave her for the maid.” She said, sing—song and teasing. Daryl was silent and she knew she had his attention. 

“I ain’t bitin’!” He declared, peevishly. “Ain’t none of it true, anyway.” He groused, and stepped out of the fitting room in what he hoped to be a promising ensemble. Maggie’s jaw dropped at how dapper her scruffy friend looked. It was a supremely tailored navy suit that fit him like a glove. 

“Baby, everyone’s gonna disappear the moment he lays eyes on you.” She said, looking like she might cry. Daryl grunted and scratched his ass, feeling embarrassed but happy that the shopping could finally end.

After they left the shop with two paper bags filled with clothes for tomorrow night, Daryl insisted on buying lunch to thank Maggie. He never had much but his part time job at the motorcycle shop paid him enough to buy lunch once in a while at a cute cafe on River Street. It was a charming area with lots of people and pleasant aromas surrounded by historical architecture and art. He would come here, regularly to remind himself that not far from where he lived was something beautiful and that there were happy people in the world, and that maybe someday he could be one of them. Today was the first time he brought Maggie and he was delighted to see that she too was spellbound by the cozy bistro.

Daryl puffed away at his fourth cigarette that hour while Maggie trilled on about starting her BFA at SCAD next month. But it was difficult for him to focus, what Maggie had said earlier about Rick’s mom nibbled at his brain, despite his best efforts to not humor such outrageous gossip. His cheeks hollowed when he sucked hard on the orange filter and felt the heat of the red ember draw closer to his fingers before inhaling deeply and licked his lips. 

“Are you here?” Maggie asked. 

“Huh?” Daryl grunted, and rubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. “S’rry, was just thinkin’ ‘bout stuff…” He told her, apologetically. 

“Talk to me.” Maggie told him, taking a sip of the beer that the bartender who liked Daryl served them while no one was looking. Daryl shrugged and sipped his own beer before asking the question that was on his mind. 

“Was all that true?” He asked, gruffly. “What you said abou’ Rick’s mom…”  
She reached over and snagged the cigarette from his lips before he could light it. 

“Shit, will kill you before you’re thirty at the rate you’re going!” She said, snappishly. He flipped her off and she swatted his finger away. “Anyway, as far as I know, yes. She went to trial for it and everything, but they couldn’t find anything to pin to her.” She told him. 

“Yeah, what about the maid?” He asked. 

“She’s still there, far as I know.” She said. 

“That’s weird…”

“Honey, that’s just the tip of their strange and twisted iceberg.” Maggie said, biting her lip as she contemplated where to start. 

“Mr. Dixon,” A proper voice broke her train of thought. She winced with annoyance once she saw that it was none other than Rick Grimes, himself. 

“Rick!” Daryl sang, awkwardly when he hoped up and knocked his chair over, making a loud clattering sound on the cobblestone. Maggie palmed her face.  
Rick and Caesar chuckled innocently at the other boys floundering state. 

“Take it easy, I’m not the police.” Rick said, smoothly as he lifted the chair off the ground. Daryl blushed crimson and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“I know! I was jus’…ya know…” He stammered, his tone gruff and grouchy. 

“Excited to see me?” Rick offered, with an arrogant smirk. Daryl looked like he wanted to die. 

“Who’s your friend?” Maggie asked, antagonistically, never bothering to stand or say hello. 

“Oh Margaret, I didn’t see you there.” Rick lied.

“Don’t call me Margaret!” She scolded. Rick laughed airily at how easy she was to rile up. 

“So, Daryl this is my friend Caesar. He taught me to play piano.” Rick said, politely and Caesar reached out his hand with a friendly smile. Daryl didn’t return the gesture, instead he was morphing into a little green monster once he noticed how attractive Caesar was. 

“We’re strictly friends.” Caesar said, to reassure the insecure boy. Daryl grunted and clasped the sexy Latino boys hand and gave it a firm shake. 

“My, Daryl, are you jealous?” Rick asked, he was beaming now. Daryl shrugged and gave Rick a weak smile. 

“S’rry,” Daryl mumbled.

“No sweat, man.” Caesar said.

“Great, how about we join you guys for lunch.” Rick said, pulling out a chair. 

“No, go away.” Maggie scoffed, as she threw her leg up on the chair that Rick was going to sit in.

“Move y’r damn foot, Maggie.” Daryl told her. Maggie did as she was told and pretended to scratch the corner of her eye with her middle finger. Rick didn’t miss it and blew her a kiss in return. 

“So, Maggie,” Caesar said. “Beth was just singing at Rick’s house and she was outstanding.” He told her, proudly. 

“Rick’s house?” She said, surprised. “Thank your for telling me, I’ll be sure to sage her before I let her back in the house. Lord only knows the darkness that lives within those walls.” 

“Enough!” Rick snapped, slamming his hand down on the table, causing the contents to clatter. “I will no longer stand for your petty prejudice towards my me or my family, you snotty little bitch!” He stood up and took Caesar by the arm. “I hope that I will still have the privilege of your attendance tomorrow, Daryl.” He said, anger and sadness fused into one. Caesar pulled away from Rick’s grip and followed him down the street. Daryl and Maggie were quiet for a moment as they processed the outburst. 

“You know, you didn’t have to be such an asshole.” He told her, more disappointed that angry. 

“I—wait!” She implored, but he had already stood up and tossed a twenty on the table before chasing after Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all means, please leave feedback <3 Thank's for reading.


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